The Malfoy Will
by Clementine Angst
Summary: Draco's father is making him pick a bride.He invests in the help of Hermione and things get pretty crazy.Especially when both of them have trouble distinguishing between what's real and what's an act & Ron,Pansy and an unexpected pregnancy get in the way
1. Beginnings

Chapter One–Beginnings

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: Non HBP/DH compliant. It's a marriage-fic that takes place about five years after they graduated from Hogwarts so Hermione and Draco would be around 22 or something along those lines. The story starts on a cold December morning.

"What do you mean, Father?" Draco exclaimed, slamming his fist on the dinner table. Currently, he sat in the Malfoy manner having his weekly Sunday breakfast with his parents. He had come to hate these meetings. They always ended awfully with arguments, awkward discussions or pure madness. It was just last week that they fought over whether or not Draco should paint his bathroom yellow like he planned. His father insisted it be green.

"It is clear what I mean, Draco. It's like this with many families. If you don't find someone to marry before the twentieth of December we will be forced to choose for you."

Draco sighed viciously. Not that it mattered, but his status as most eligible bachelor, most eligible Ministry-working bachelor, and hottest single pureblood would be diminished with this new revelation. It seemed that in order to come into the money that will be left to him at his parent's demise he is required to marry upon their request. It was pure foolishness.

"Why now? Why not two more years? Give me time!" he demanded, standing up in a huff.

"It was decided. This is how it is. I won't hesitate to choose for you. I hear Pansy is still single." His father sneered lightly before taking a bite of his meal. He set his fork aside with a clatter to face his son of who had an expression of anger lining his face.

"That will not be necessary." He choked. There was no way in hell Draco would ever consider marrying her. He turned to his mother out of defeat, "I have to return to the Ministry. They're moving me to the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"International affairs?" his mother commended, "Congratulations."

"Thanks, but I better get going. It's the first day on the job and I don't want to be late." He knew he wasn't expected until noon.

"I thought you weren't expected until noon?"

"Well, Father, I think that making a good impression would be beneficial. Plus, I should introduce myself to coworkers."

"Fine," his father exhaled, "But don't forget: two weeks."

Draco nodded before heading out the door in haste. It wasn't long before he pushed his way through a crowd of busy wizards making their way to work. He always hated the morning walk to the offices.

* * *

Hermione was scanning her desk in a state of panic. She couldn't seem to find the set of forms regarding an exchange of cauldrons that needed to be examined. She was never this unorganized but in the haste of getting a new office ready for an addition to their department she had neglected some of her work and was now struggling to catch back up.

There was a raspy knock upon her door and she uttered a weary, "Come in," Her eyes narrowed slightly when her visitor showed himself. "_Malfoy?_"

"Yes. It's me. Unfortunately I have been instructed to sit in on you for the day to…get acquainted with this form of work. Not that it's any different than what I was doing before. Paperwork, meetings, really bad coffee."

"I prefer tea." She commented. He snorted slightly and then returned to his slight frown. "You can sit wherever."

"Thanks for making me feel comfortable, mudbl—"

"Don't even think about it! I will not, and I mean WILL NOT, let you get away with vulgar, domineering and offending words in this workplace."

"Didn't have to be so harsh, _muggleborn._"

* * *

"Oh my. I'm so hungry."

"Quit complaining, Malfoy."

"No. I won't. I'm going out for lunch." He stood up and grabbed his coat, "Care to join?"

She tilted her head before agreeing. The office was becoming rather stuffy. They made their way to a small wizard diner on the corner where they each ordered a decent lunch. They sat in silence until their meal arrived.

"So, anything new happen lately?" she asked. Small talk was never her forte.

"Ha!" he scoffed, "Tons and tons of things. But what makes you think I'll tell you?"

"Small talk Malfoy, can't you make small talk without being rude?"

"Nope." He added with a grin. She attempted to figure out whether he was being nice or extremely rude. She settled for rude. It was more Malfoy-like. "How about you, anything new with your friends?"

Was he being civil? He hadn't even called them names. "Well, Harry and Ginny are on their honeymoon and Ron is traveling with whatever Quiddich team he's on now."

"You two dating?" he questioned.

"No!" he corrected, "He's not my type."

"Oh, so what is your type?"

She took a few seconds to consider his question. "I like badasses."

He raised his eyebrows slightly, "That's a tad uncharacteristic of you. I thought you'd lean towards nerds…or Ron."

"I already clarified that we weren't dating!"

"No need to get so offended. Was he bad in bed or something?"

"That's it Malfoy," She shook her head while fumbling through her purse for money. He noticed her attempt to pay.

"I'll get that. You don't have to pay," he prompted loudly.

"No it's fine, really,"

"I've got it," he reprimanded before reaching for her hand and placing it firmly on the table. He hesitated for a couple seconds before going on, "The least I can be is a gentleman. Malfoys are taught to always be gentlemen." He boasted proudly, "Though I hardly consider myself a Malfoy these days." He added with a chuckle. He noticed Hermione's inquisitive eyes and quickly attempted to hamper them, "It's nothing to dwell on, just a passing comment."

She smiled sincerely before glancing downwards: their hands were still clasped on the table. Instead of pulling away she leaned in somewhat so that their noses were merely inches away, "I best be going,"

"We're going to the same place!" he whispered.

"So what?" She added before standing up and exiting.

He threw money onto the table and left, chasing after Hermione until he landed at her side. "Going to teach me anything new when we get back?"

"Well, I thought I could teach you how to submit trade forms."

"Oh, what fun!"

* * *

"Hermione!" A shout from outside her office door, "did you read the _Prophet_?"

"Not yet, why?" She replied as she pulled out her rumpled copy of the _Prophet._ It read: This Year's Most Eligible Bachelor is Now Taken. She glanced down at the moving photo, a picture of her and Draco at the café holding hands. And then a smaller one of the instant when she said goodbye. "Oh, my," she exhaled before leaning backwards in her chair. What would her friends say? Just more stress! She didn't need this. She got up and stormed into Draco's office throwing down the paper so he could easily read it.

"I saw it already,"

"And?" she protested. How could he be so dense?

"And? What am I supposed to do about it?"

"Get your fancy friends to stop the papers! I can't deal with this stress." Hermione cried out. Her thoughts pounding ferociously through her head. _'Fancy friends? Where do I come up with things like this?'_

"You should consider yourself lucky. Girls would kill someone to be in your supposed position. I'm surprised there haven't been any death threats yet." He laughed before rolling slightly in his chair and picking at his quill.

"Funny, Malfoy, that's seriously funny." She added mockingly.

"Seriously, Granger. Just let it be. It'll pass in time. I have to go anyway, my father is expecting me. He just owled. I'll speak with you later." He watched her leave and exhaled gently. _What was wrong with him?_

* * *

"Son," Lucius Malfoy sat in a green tinted armchair in his library. His son had just entered upon request. He had recently read the newspaper and was concerned at Draco's current affairs. Lucius was not afraid to meddle.

"Father," Draco replied, taking a seat across from his father.

"Is there something you would like to speak to me about?"

Draco shook his head, "Not in particularly. Why?"

"I saw the paper." He paused slightly to take a sip of his drink. He hoped Draco would intervene now and dispel the rumors of the paper before he had to voice his opinion. "I prompt you to change your choice. I don't want my money going to a mudblood."

"Father, she—don't call her that—and I—" Draco was struggling for words. Why was it so hard for him to admit he wasn't actually with Hermione. Though he knew his father would hate it he still wasn't fond of lying and—wait, his father would hate it. Wasn't that brilliant payback?

"Come out with it boy!" He shouted before glaring outright with a sense of pure annoyance Draco had seen all too many times as a child.

"I believe Hermione is the right girl for me, Father. I do."

"Well," Lucius sneered, "Please, I advise you to reconsider."

Draco shook his head. "You told me to find someone and I found her. I am doing exactly what you want. Plus, she is brilliant, beautiful and would make an excellent mother." Malfoy comforted himself by repeating that he was lying. 'Hermione? Beautiful? What am I saying?' he thought while his father contemplated his next words.

"But she's a mudblood. She'll taint our bloodline."

"I will ask again. Please do not call her that. And what do I care? I'd rather have kids with her than Pansy," maybe everything wasn't a lie. He waited for his father's response. Surely he would protest his choice. Surely he would be disappointed.

"You're dismissed, boy. I've had enough of your nonsense. You have two weeks."

* * *

"You did what?" Hermione stood, arms crossed, brow furrowed and head cocked in her office with a very distraught Malfoy standing across from her.

"It's just a little lie. You just have to come to a few family dinners, parties and make appearances. That's it." He attempted to persuade her. But she was too intelligent, even he recognized that. She shook her head viciously.

"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed. "Why? This makes absolutely no sense!"

"Because!" He screamed, his face a blotch of red, "My parents are forcing me to get married and I know they would hate if it were to you!"

"So you plan on marrying me? That's wonderful! When was I going to have any say on the plans?" She stepped towards him, her arms flying in the air.

"It's just a favor. We'll break up. We'll have an argument. It'll be fine!" he demanded, grabbing a hold of her shoulders.

"We barely know each other."

"Then let's get to know each other," he suggested smugly. Effort was harder then he thought. He let go of her and headed towards the door before turning to her once more, "Oh and you're expected at my parent's for dinner tomorrow night."


	2. Good Manners

Chapter Two–Good Manners

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: I might have used the F-word in this chapter. I hope no one minds. ;) Oh, and Voldemort is dead! Just thought that might be important to mention. And there was a war, basically occurring like the one in DH, but the details aren't important to this story. Hope you like it!

* * *

"And what am _I _getting out of this?"

"Well, for one you get to spend time with me," Draco answered but Hermione just rolled her eyes, "And you get to piss my parents off, which I know you've always wanted to do."

Hermione stood across from Draco in her office at work. It was the day of their dinner with the Malfoys and she was seriously anxious. "Piss them off?"

"Just be you, I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Err—thanks?" She stammered before fidgeting with an old quill.

"Oh and there are some rules," he continued, "Public displays of affection, calling me by my first name, and you've got to really get into it."

"God Malfoy, this is totally mental. What says I won't back out?"

"You're Granger: you aren't going anywhere."

"Really, is that what you think?"

"No. That's what I know," he taunted, "I always get what I want. Remember that Granger. _Always._"

"Shove it. You are such an arrogant prat!"

"But you love it. Why else would you be going through with this?"

She exhaled in annoyance, "I never said I would."

"But you will," he retorted before running a masculine hand through his blonde locks.

"Malfoy, are you seriously going to have this discussion with me?"

"It's not much of a discussion. Just a disagreement that I happen to be winning."

"I am not going to your parents' tonight. End of story." she cried, throwing her hands in the air.

"I'll be outside your office at six. Don't be late."

* * *

"Don't worry, Granger. It'll be fine." Malfoy scoffed as he pounded on his parents' door. He was clad in black slacks, a white button up shirt and a green tie that matched Hermione's knee length dress.

"It better be," currently Draco and Hermione were situated outside the Malfoy Manor, Draco's arm wrapped purposely around her waist. He considered how it seemed to fit perfectly. The door creaked open to reveal a house elf, his ears slightly drooping.

"Master's son! You are expected in the dining hall." The elf ushered them inside hastily. Draco and Hermione followed the distraught little bugger all the way through the manor, stopping outside a set of elegant double doors. The house elf scurried away before Hermione could thank him.

"Is it necessary to have such a large house?"

"It's not mine. Mine is smaller."

"Sure it is," she muttered as the doors opened. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were seated at a rather long table: Lucius at the head and Narcissa on his right. The room was decorated in shades of green with a gaudy chandelier hanging in the center. The table was dark, as was the room.

"Son, glad to see you are on time." His father hissed, sticking out his hand to be shaken. "And this must be _Hermione._"

Hermione managed a weak smile before turning to Draco's mother, "Hello," she then shook both of their hands. Why were they so formal? She instantly felt pity for Draco as they took their seats at the table. The atmosphere has slowly transformed into an awkward silence.

It seemed to last forever until the brittle and shrill voice of Mrs. Malfoy ended it, "So how long have you two been together?"

Draco must have noticed the sudden flight of panic in Hermione's eyes. He coughed gently before swiftly stating the facts, "Oh, a week or two," he noticed his mother's eyebrows rise so he continued; "It was love at first sight, or second if you count our Hogwarts days. I was thrilled when I found out I was transferring to her Department at the Ministry." Hermione smiled before looking over to Draco. He grinned back as he leant over and kissed her on the cheek. Hermione considered how his mother stiffened her posture and his father averted their eyes. Boy, they were really old fashion. Even more than she first thought.

"So what are your future plans, Hermione?" Lucius questioned. Hermione silently begged this wasn't some sort of trap. Draco insisted that she remain oblivious to the possibility of marriage when speaking with his parents.

"Well, I'll continue to work at the Ministry, hopefully—"

"Not career plans," Narcissa interjected, "_Other _plans."

Hermione glanced over to Draco before placing her hand firmly on his, "I figure two or three children, a nice home, and a beautiful husband." She accidentally locked eyes with Draco while uttering the last phrase and couldn't seem to let go. Silver. Sharp, distant silver, sending chills down her spine.

"Marriage?" Lucius continued, "So you and Draco have discussed things, I see?"

"Father," Draco coughed, "Way to ruin a decent surprise,"

Hermione's mind began to race. This was where her acting skills had to come into play. "Draco, love, what are you talking about?"

He smirked slightly before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, velvet container. With elegance and poise he knelt down on the ground and took Hermione's hand in his. "Hermione Jane Granger, will you marry me?"

She couldn't say no, could she? Hermione felt a decent smile form on her face as she muttered a joyous, "Yes," and he placed the ring on her finger, stood up and took her in his arms. Draco fought the sudden impulse to kiss her.

"You're positive she isn't just in it for the money?"

"Lucius, that's unnecessary. Don't ruin his moment."

"Quiet, Narcissa, this isn't even slightly convincing." He bellowed. "Draco may I have a word?"

"Father, I—" Draco was at a loss for words as he glanced down at Hermione. He saw such worry on her face, those brown eyes searching for something in his. He didn't want to leave her, not now at least, "Later, please?"

Lucius reluctantly agreed; contempt on the thought that "later" would give him more time to form a beneficial argument.

"I love him," Hermione murmured before tucking one of Draco's bangs the gel hadn't captured behind his ear, "I really do,"

"Sure you do," Lucius muttered viciously, "Narcissa will help with the wedding plans. I'm sure you two will set up appropriate meetings with her."

They both nodded, though Hermione with more enthusiasm. She tried to appear happy but her composure was wearing down, "May I use the bathroom?"

"Yes, dear." Narcissa instantly replied, "I can get one of our house elves to show you the way—"

"That won't be necessary, Mother. I'll take her there."

He saw his mother swallow hard before nodding, "Just don't get lost," she squeaked with a smirk.

Draco led Hermione out of the room by the waist. When they were out of earshot Hermione began to panic, "Draco Malfoy, do you have any idea what you've gotten us into?"

"Shh," he hissed before opening the nearest door and pushing her in. It appeared to be a bathroom, though rather large. "I don't want them to hear us." She exhaled before leaning her head against the wall. He hesitantly pulled her into an embrace. "It'll be fine, Hermione, it really will. But you aren't doing a very good job."

"Excuse me?" she scoffed, "I just agreed to marry you."

"But you've got to be over the top. They're very old fashion, if you haven't noticed. Please, just get on their nerves so they back out of this whole thing."

"Malfoy, I doubt that'll happen," she snapped before looking up at him. Their current position should be considered awkward, though neither of them felt like moving. Hermione had somehow wound up against the wall, Draco's hands resting firmly on her waist, and her hands fiddling with the back of his hair. "They're your parents. I don't want to get stuck marrying you."

"I'm not that bad. You have to admit, I'm a lot better than when we graduated." He added with a smirk. There was a faint knock on the door and Draco's eyes bulged.

"Hermione, dear, are you alright?" It was his mother. His bloody mother. But Draco quickly developed a plan.

He pushed his body against her as he recalled that the door remained unlocked, "Draco, what are you doing?" she muttered.

"Go along with it," he managed between clenched teeth. "If she opens the door kiss me."

"Draco, are you in there with her?" His mother's voice suddenly became impatient. They heard the doorknob turn and the door creak open. Draco reluctantly pushed his lips against Hermione's in one rush of panic. Hermione had no choice but to oblige by kissing him back. She assumed his mother would be standing behind them, her mouth agape, but instead Narcissa quietly backed out of the bathroom, unable to ruin what she suspected as her son's happiness. Draco struggled to stop as he kissed her some more. Her hands rested on his shoulders. He didn't know what he was doing and he definitely didn't know why. But she kept kissing him and he kept kissing her. 

When they stopped she looked up at him with the most frightening stare he had ever seen. Her nostrils flared, her eyes were wide and her mouth hung slightly open. He saw such confusion in her eyes that all he wanted to do was fix it.

"Get the fuck off me, Malfoy."

"Fine," was all he could manage as he backed away. She skated past him and towards the door. He followed her back to the dinner table. It seemed their plates had been cleared. Now a cup of custard sat lonely in each of their places.

"What took so long?" his father questioned.

"We—err—got lost," was Draco's hesitant reply as they took their seats. Narcissa seemed rather at ease, contrary to how he believed she would react. Hopefully she would mention what she saw. He knew his father would dislike it.

"I hope you two enjoy the custard, it's lemon."

"It looks wonderful, Mother."

"You should consider house elves, son. They really are beneficial. And that house of yours has to go. It is far too small if you are seriously considering a family." Lucius shot a disapproving look towards Hermione when she glanced at Draco.

'_Small?'_ Hermione thought, _'Draco Malfoy with a small house?'_

"It isn't that bad, Father. And I still refuse to have house elves. Cooking has become a good way for me to get my mind off things."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well I cook for myself. You know? Still using magic, but it keeps my hands busy. Work is stressful and—"

"Draco looks amazing when he's cooking. Remember that time in the kitchen, love?" Hermione interjected. He smiled as a reply and scooted his chair closer.

"How could I forget?" Draco added playfully while draping his arm around her shoulders.

"You do know our views on celibacy, correct?" Lucius sneered. "I will not have you disrupt a long tradition among our family. And here you are—tainting our very blood. You're children will be half bloods! They'll be filthy. Have I taught you nothing?"

"Do not call my future children, your damn grandchildren, that. Hermione's smarter than any fucking pureblood. Respect her, and my choices, or I will not hesitate to leave."

"Oh, and then what? You won't have our money. And then she'll leave you, of course."

"Father, have you forgotten the extremely decent sum of money in _my _vault at Gringots? Surely you haven't. Hermione is important to me. No way in hell I'll give her up for you. And don't worry, we haven't slept together _yet_."

"Damn it, Draco!" His father bellowed as he stood. "This is uncalled for. I will speak to you in the other room, _now._"

"Fine," he huffed and then leant down to kiss her on the cheek, "I'll be right back, love."

Hermione surrendered a smile and a wink before he followed his father into an adjacent room. Hermione had been severely apprehensive regarding being alone with Narcissa, but as the situation presented itself she suddenly went calm. Narcissa sat across from her with a pointed face and a nose reminiscent of Draco. She didn't speak at first, she just examined Hermione.

"How many children did you say you wanted?"

Hermione was caught by surprise yet easily recalled her previous answer, since it was the truth, "Two or three, preferably."

"Hm," Narcissa sighed. "I always wanted a large family. Four or five children. But Lucius decided Draco was enough."

Hermione laughed, "And he can be quite the handful sometimes. Stubborn and difficult, but still he remains poised and elegant, which I suppose he gets from you." She smiled at the thought of Draco growing up. But she couldn't picture him here. "And even when you want to disagree with him you can't. It's almost impossible," she had no idea where she was getting this stuff.

"And you've only been with him for two weeks?"

_Try two days. _"Yes. But it seems like I've known him forever. He's so different from when we went to school."

"During the war he began to change, he refused the Dark Mark. He refused to be evil. I was surprised when Lucius accepted this new side of him. But I suppose he had too, after Voldemort died he had no other choice. Draco changed. There is a dominant, stronger side of him now."

Hermione smiled. She had no idea why. But she smiled. Maybe because Draco did seem rather strong. He did seem new. _'But he is still an arrogant prat' _she reminded herself. "I hope your husband isn't too hard on him. The transition at work has been rather stressful for him."

"Father, please!" Draco shouted. "I fucking love her. I don't care about what you say and what you plan on—"

"Here," His father shoved a piece of parchment at him. "That is the part of the will that requires you to marry. Read it. It has some interesting conditions. Including a child. Better be expecting by your one year anniversary," he teased, "You're a fool, Draco. First you deny the Dark Mark. You deny all that I have built up. And then you bring her into this home expecting acceptance. Well this is the most you'll get from me. She does not deserve you, son. Remember that."

Draco folded up the parchment and placed it in his pocket before turning towards the door. He reentered the room where Hermione and his mother sat. He solemnly announced, "We're going."

Hermione immediately stood up and walked over to him. She leant in close so no one else could hear, "What's wrong?"

"It's fine," he whispered back, "Let's go."

"You can floo if you'd like. Do you have a fireplace at your house, Hermione?" Narcissa barked.

"It's fine. We'll apparate. She's staying at my house tonight, anyway." Draco publicized before grasping Hermione's hand, "Thank you Mother, Father. I'll see you soon."

There was a crack and they landed in Draco's house. "I can't believe them," he groaned, "Such foul, bitter, old—"

"But isn't this what you wanted?" Hermione's voice quivered steadily as she turned to him. "We'll have a fight. We'll have an argument. We'll break up. It'll be fine."

He shook his head and cupped her face in her hands, "In eleven days it'll be final. If we can't figure anything out by then you're stuck. And it'll be entirely my fault."

"Draco," she moaned before resting her forehead against his. "I agreed. Don't blame yourself."

"But he gave me this piece of paper, it has all the requirements and I've got to knock you up before our first anniversary and then—"

"Stop," she commanded as she removed her forehead from his. Hermione wound her arms around his waist for a brief hug before backing away. "Thanks for a wonderful evening." She smiled slightly before readying herself to apparate.

"Wait. It's so lonely here at night. Please stay."


	3. Unfortunate Homecoming

Chapter Three–Unfortunate Homecoming

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: So I just realized recently that the divider I was using happily for my stories seems to hide itself when I upload documents. I'm sorry if you read any of the previous chapters without dividers and got confused. Hopefully the little problem is fixed now. :)

* * *

"Draco," she moaned before resting her forehead against his. "I agreed. Don't blame yourself."

"But he gave me this piece of paper, it has all the requirements and I've got to knock you up before our first anniversary and then—"

"Stop," she commanded as she removed her forehead from his. Hermione wound her arms around his waist for a brief hug before backing away. "Thanks for a wonderful evening." She smiled slightly before readying herself to apparate.

"Wait. It's so lonely here at night. Please stay."

She cocked her head slightly before smirking, "Draco, it's not that big—"

"It is. It really is. My father is wrong. There will be plenty of room for our children—" He shook his head viciously before turning back to her, "I'm sorry, it was just a slip up."

Her eyes widened slightly before she took a deep inhale, "I better be going. I'll see you tomorrow at work. Try to be on time."

"Fine." He muttered but she was gone already. He tried to shrug it off as he headed to bed but the lingering image of her startled face bothered him immensely. He recalled how she smiled when he proposed, in the bathroom, the lies that seemed to flow off her tongue. He felt so ashamed for making her feel so uncomfortable.

* * *

"Miss Granger, you have a visitor." Hermione flexed her hands before yelling back, "Tell them they can come in,"

She was currently in her office, concentrating greatly on the tedious acts of her job. She had successfully avoided Draco all day. Though, hopefully he wasn't hurt. Her door eased open to reveal a beaming Ginny Potter.

"Hermione!" she squealed as they embraced briefly. "I've missed you so much and there's so much to tell. I hope I'm not being a nuisance, they'll understand. I just got back to my honeymoon and—oh my God!" she finished before glancing down at Hermione's hand. Her engagement ring seemed to shine in the light, "Ron asked you? Mum is going to be so happy!"

Hermione silently fought over whether or not they were telling others about her and Draco's current arrangement. She assumed not, that was the safer route. "Ginny, dear, it's not—"

"Hermione, I was wondering if you were free for lunch since my mother seems so eager to discuss wedding plans—" Draco announced as he waltzed into Hermione's office.

"Malfoy?!" Ginny exclaimed before thrashing her head back to face Hermione.

"Weasely," He retorted a tad delayed.

"Are you serious? When did all this happen? I've only been gone for a week. Only one bloody week, Hermione. Can't you control yourself?"

"Well, we have been dating for two weeks," Draco insisted, "We were keeping it a secret,"

"Oh, that's great! What'll Ron think? And the rest of the family? And how about your parents, what did they say? Oh my God, Hermione are you pregnant?"

"No!" Draco and Hermione shouted together.

"And why did she mention the Weasel?"

"Oh that's nothing, Draco, nothing at all."

"It is something," Ginny retorted, "Ron left for Quiddich madly in love with her but she insisted that he go and have fun and that if he came back and was still in love with her she would consider him. Damn it, he had a whole surprise planned out—there were even those muggle things involved—bloons, baloneys, what are they?"

"Balloons," Hermione snapped impatiently. "This isn't the time to discuss this anyway."

"When is?" Ginny persisted, "Hopefully some time before the wedding."

"Dinner tonight,"

"No, love, we have plans," Draco managed with a smirk.

"Well Ginny and Harry will have to join us."

"Isn't that just delightful," Draco sneered, "See you at lunch, Hermione. And _you _later." He exited swiftly and closed the door in his departure. Ginny promptly turned to Hermione with foul eyes.

"Hermione Jane Granger! I can't believe you." She moaned, "Are you serious?"

"Yes," Hermione mumbled, "I love him." Ginny cocked her head slightly with Hermione's reply before bidding her goodbyes.

* * *

"Lunch time," a cocky, mocking voice echoed from behind her door. Hermione grumbled about before following Draco all the way to the diner they were meeting his mother at. She assumed his father would be absent. She begged his father wouldn't come. They arrived early but Narcissa was already there. With grace they were seated at a petite, round table decorated with a small bouquet of white and blue blooming flowers.

"Hello" Narcissa offered, "We have important matters to discuss, such as your engagement party. It will need to be held immediately! I hate to be such a bother, but the latest we can afford to announce your decision is this Friday."

"But I thought I had until the twentieth."

"Well, this is just to _announce _that you've chosen her. The actual wedding will be the twentieth since you chose so swiftly. We wish to get this out of the way since we were old death eaters people seem to have grudges against us. You never know when we could be killed these days," she laughed, "But that has no significance. Which color, green or gold for the theme?"

"Gold," Hermione snapped.

"Green," Draco said a tad louder.

"Gold!" Hermione countered as she turned to face Draco.

"Green!" He bellowed as his face inched closer to hers.

"We are using gold and that's the end of it."

"Yeah, right. Mother, we've chosen green."

"Don't you dare speak for me," Hermione commanded as she stood up. Draco snorted slightly before standing up to face her. "I'm so sorry for the misunderstanding Mrs. Malfoy. Put us down for gold."

"Hermione, love," he sneered before taking her hands in his, "You know how wonderful I look in green."

"If you two can't decide then we'll have to go with blue or—"

"Nonsense, gold it is." Hermione insisted as she pulled on Draco by the waist, "He _has _to agree. Or else."

"Or else?" Draco teased, "That sounds like fun,"

"Blue it is!" Narcissa interjected as she scribbled away on a piece of parchment.

"No. Hermione is going to agree with me," he stated. Draco's face inched closer and closer until he could feel the pattern of Hermione's breath on his lips, "Right, love?"

"Never in a million years," was her simple reply as he pulled her into a kiss he soon broadened with several twists of his tongue. She broke free of his grasp with a traveling blush. Hermione faced Narcissa and with a tone of utter finality she stated, "Gold."

"Very well then. I guess I'll get you a proper dress since it is such short notice. And you Draco, please look presentable. I don't want another one of those instances where you come in with messy hair and an untucked shirt with _Pansy _on your arm. Foul, little, sl—never mind that," Narcissa caught herself before revealing opinions purebloods should surely keep to themselves, "I assure you that everything will be taken care of. The only issue I have is when we will meet again to discuss wedding arrangements. Perhaps this Saturday, if that's alright with you two." They nodded in agreement while Mrs. Malfoy put her belongings away. "I have to go now. I'm sorry I can't stay. Please enjoy the rest of your meal," she winked with a grin, "together."

After she left the two sat in an uncomfortable silence until they ordered food. "They've offered me a job at Hogwarts," Draco started, "Next year, of course."

"Oh really? What subject?"

"Potions. Seems that you stay there in quarters for the whole year. Can't even come back for the holidays."

Hermione tilted her head in confusion, "Then when will I see you?"

He chuckled slightly before smoothing out the wrinkles in her hands, "Dear, if we don't get married and I'm not working with you I doubt there will be a need to see each other."

"Oh." Hermione felt rather embarrassed and soon hid herself behind meaningless small talk until they had to head back to the office.

* * *

Draco was in the bathroom splashing water about his face in the hopes that he would wake up in time, but it was almost six o'clock and that meant Potter and his wife would be here any minute. He was dreading this little dinner. It meant more time that he would have to pretend to be in love with Hermione. He was discomforted when he got so into the act that he couldn't seem to distinguish what was real and what was show. They had decided on Hermione's house. Draco hadn't been there yet, plus Hermione suggested that the Potters might feel more comfortable in her house compared to his. Though she didn't have a fair look around.

"Get out here Draco," Hermione beckoned, "They're on their way."

"Oh joy," he replied. He exited the bathroom and stood with her near the previously set table. It wasn't long before they arrived hand in hand.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed before wrapping her in a warm hug. He made his way over to Malfoy and stuck his hand out to be shaken. Draco hesitantly took it, making an effort to have a firm handshake. They made their way to the table. While Ginny and Hermione talked, Harry and Draco sat in silence. Draco never considered how awkward this could be for Hermione's friends. If only he had thought his plan through.

"Have you two set a date?" Ginny questioned. Her eyes immediately narrowed.

"Yes, actually. The twentieth."

"That soon?"

"It's going to be a small ceremony. Mostly family. You are invited, of course." Malfoy replied. "And your parents."

"How about Ronald?" Ginny arched her eyebrows expecting Malfoy's true feelings to surface.

"He will always be invited. Though I do not like the idea of him being near Hermione, I guess I'll just have to deal with it. You only get married once."

"Well, actually. There's a bunch of fancy laws," Harry interjected, "I guess you can only get a divorce if you don't consummate the marriage."

Draco sneered slightly before considering his options, _'So if my father kicks the bucket before we are forced to consummate the marriage…' _Harry watched intently as Draco thought. He made sure to mentally note everything Draco and Hermione did tonight. He wasn't exactly convinced of their engagement, not yet at least.

"That's interesting." Hermione supplied, "I thought once you were married in the wizard world you were married for life,"

"Well, it seems that couples are breaking up left and right—yet still legally married," Harry continued, "Better be sure he's the one you want Hermione. There's no backing out once you're in."

"Don't worry, no doubts here." Hermione smiled genuinely before standing up to go get the food. Draco followed her into the kitchen. When they were safely hidden behind walls she began, "This is so awkward, I can barely take it. Why in hell are they talking about marriage so much?"

"Well, they did just get back from their honeymoon."

"But seriously, can't they tell we don't want to talk about it?"

"No, we aren't really hinting to that. That's the whole point to pretending to be in love—most would also be excited to talk about wedding plans." She let out a soft groan before picking up the food and heading back to the table. He followed her, masking himself in enthusiasm. When they returned Harry and Ginny were deep in conversation, about what neither Hermione nor Draco could figure out. They settled on the fact it had to do with them when they immediately halted in concurrence with their arrival.

"What were you guys talking about?"

"Nothing, Hermione." Ginny snapped rather fast.

"Ginny, come on," Harry pleaded as he shot a look of sympathy towards Hermione, "We should tell them."

"But I wanted Mum to be the first to know!" Ginny insisted, "But I guess…but only if I get to tell them." Ginny smiled broadly and Harry nodded. She glanced back at her husband before continuing, "Harry and I are having a baby!" Draco tried not to sneer or smirk. He tried to look happy. He assumed he was successful as Harry hugged him and he congratulated them. Now there would be even more pressure on them. Such pressure wasn't necessary when all they wanted to do was get rid of each other.

The rest of the night was concentrated on lighter topics like current events, work and the like. Draco was content with the current situation. Potter wasn't half bad when Ron wasn't around. When the laughter and talking ceased and the Potters were preparing to leave there was a sudden pop and Ronald Weasely stood in front of them.

"Hermione," He bellowed as she turned to him, "I can't believe you! I just got Ginny's letter and I thought…I thought that we were going somewhere. There was a break in between practice and stuff so I figured this was a convenient time. But here you are, fraternizing with the enemy…over chicken. Blimey, Hermione, I never thought you'd stoop so low."

"I don't even want to bother, Ronald," Hermione shot before reaching for one of the plates, "You're right. I'm fraternizing with the enemy. I'm in love with the enemy. Do what you will with the information. I haven't any time for this."

Ron looked a tad shocked maybe even amused. "Wait 'till Mum finds out." And then he left. Ginny shrugged and Harry snickered. The Potters left swiftly.

Hermione stood across from Draco, her arms crossed, "So dinner with my parents tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he supplied as he looked around awkwardly.

"You know, I was thinking about last night."

"Really?"

"Yes. And you know what I think?" she shuttered slightly, "My house is awfully large for one person."

"Indeed." He smirked, "And so is mine. But that didn't prevent you from leaving."

"Well you were talking about our chil—"

"You don't mind if I stay here tonight, do you?" he grinned, "You actually _want _me to."

In a swift attempt to change the subject she began, "Ever seen a television?" He shook his head. She smiled before pointing to the couch where a T.V. sat across from. He uncomfortably sat down on the sofa and she put in a movie. With only hesitance she took a seat next to him, "This is what muggles call a movie. It's around two hours long,"

"That much?!" he sneered before unconsciously draping his arm around her shoulders, "This must be why muggles are so dumb. They sit and stare at this for two hours."

"Well brace yourself, you're about to waste two hours."

"It's not wasted if it's with you, dear."

One hour and fifty nine minutes later credits rolled continuously across the screen and Hermione sat tangled in Draco's body, fully drenched in slumber. He also slept, her face lying on his chest and rising with his every breath. She gripped his frame before adjusting herself and snuggling back into the crook of his neck.

* * *

A/N: Oh, how cliché! :) I hope you liked it. The next chapter will include dinner with the Grangers. Thanks for reading.


	4. Dentists and Snow

Chapter Four–Dentists and Snow

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: Woo! Another chapter. I'm so stoked, how about you? :)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

At first she just pushed her head back to its original position but when realizing her chin sat in the crook of Draco Malfoy's neck she immediately propped herself up, her weight shifting onto her hands placed on the couch. Below her lay a very sleepy Draco just coming to the realization that a certain bushy haired acquaintance of his was above him. He hastily whipped the sleep from his eyes with lengthy fingers before kindly asking Hermione to get the fuck off him.

"Jeez, Draco. I was just going to wake you up. No need to be so mean," she mumbled as she made her way to the kitchen, catching the time on the clock as she passed. "Oh no! We've got to be at work in, ah, twenty minutes!"

"That's more than enough time," he countered before heading to the bathroom.

"No! I need to get in there first." Hermione shouted and rushed past him towards the bathroom door.

"But you're going to take forever."

"I'm going first. And anyway, you can just take the downstairs bathroom."

"But I—" he began to protest but she slammed the door in his face. "—left my toothbrush in there."

"Oh," she shouted, "Remember we're going to my parents tonight. They're a tad…old fashioned. Just thought I'd tell you."

He shrugged before ambling towards her other bathroom. Draco considered how messed up his current situation was. How could he come out of this and never see Hermione again? He tried to convince himself he wasn't getting attached. He tried, but he concluded he could never try hard enough.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I can't believe you! How can you seriously be so at ease?"

"Hermione, give it up already!" Draco protested as they walked towards her parents' house. "They'll love me—it doesn't even matter. We aren't getting married. It's all an act. Plus I'm just more laid back than you."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is. I'm sophisticated and poised and you, well you're just Hermione." He teased.

"Oh and what's that supposed to mean," she countered with a grin as she knocked on the door.

"It _means _that—"

"Hermione, dear?" Her mother interrupted after pulling the door open, "Come in!"

"Mum!" Hermione squealed before following her mother to the table. She quickly embraced her mom and then turned to Draco with a smile. She should have told him about the small problem she might have encountered when asking her parents if she could come over for dinner. She had _accidently_ forgotten to inform them that she had a fiancé.

"And who is this?" her father inquired as he entered the dining room and took the head seat at the table.

"This," Hermione beamed, "Is Draco Malfoy. My, um, my fiancé."

"What?" Mrs. Granger exclaimed, "Hermione are you…oh my." She sighed before extending a hand towards Draco, "I am Jane Granger and this is my husband Bill." Draco reluctantly took her hand with a smile and then sat down next to Hermione. He had doubts that anyone could be as strict as his parents but as he observed the Grangers he notice subtle similarities. Bill was falling grey though his face was youthful. He was clad in a white polo and khakis. Jane smiled to reveal perfect teeth and smoothed out her yellow shirt that matched her hair before serving the food. They sat awkwardly for several moments until Hermione attempted at conversation.

"So, Dad, how's work been lately?"

"It's been fine. How about you?"

"Well, it's been interesting. Draco works with me."

"Dear, you do know office romances aren't good, right?" her mother offered sourly. Draco chuckled quite loudly which earned him several glances from his company.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"So you're a wizard too?" Bill asked. When Draco nodded he continued, "How long have you two been dating?"

Hermione hastily muttered, "Two weeks."

"Two weeks!"

"Yes, mother. And tomorrow night we're having a dinner party to celebrate our engagement."

"So soon? Don't you think you should think this through? You always think things through Hermione. This isn't like you."

"Mum, I love him."

"Love isn't always a good reason to do things," she seethed.

"Excuse me," Draco interrupted. "But I believe this isn't fast at all. I wanted to marry her the moment I saw her. Granted we did attend Hogwarts together. But it was different back then. And now I can see how much I love her."

Bill snorted obviously and with a roll of her eyes and a purse of her lips Mrs. Granger continued, "Have you two set a date?"

"The twentieth."

"Oh, my! That's so soon."

"It's going to be a small ceremony. Just you two, Draco's parents, the Weaselys and Harry."

"I don't know what to say about this Hermione. You graduate, get your own job and only come to see us once in a while. And now you've brought home a fiancé that you've only been dating for two weeks! What has gotten into you?" her mother persisted and with an expression of utter realization she locked eyes with Hermione. "Oh my, I'm going to be a grandmother, aren't I?"

"No!" Hermione exclaimed, "Why can't you except this? Plus we haven't even…you know."

"Thank goodness! You do know our views on celibacy, right?" Jane continued, "I'm glad you have some self control."

Hermione let out a slight moan before scrunching her face and turning to Draco. He saw how she longed to leave. He was at a loss for words. He hadn't expected her parents to be this horrible. She had spoken of them as if they were kind, teeth doctors. But they had transformed into strict, overprotective monsters right before their very eyes. To have to sit through this for more than the necessary time would surely kill him. He wished to leave just as much as she did, but he couldn't help but feel ashamed at making Hermione go through with this. Though, he also considered that somehow he had roped her into this. He assumed it was his charming and charismatic traits that brought them this far.

Draco took her hand in his and turned to Mr. Granger, "I am extremely sorry that I didn't come here and ask you of your permission before proposing. We were having dinner with my parents and my father brought up marriage and I couldn't resist myself. It was the perfect moment. They don't come very often."

Maybe sucking up would do the trick. "Well, son. All I can say is I'm glad it's not that redhead. Ron, right? I wasn't too fond of him when he visited."

"Yes. I'm glad it's not him, too." Draco chuckled, "He came by the other day. You should have seen the look on his face when he found out about Hermione and me."

Hermione had trouble believing it but her father cracked a smile and then continued their conversation. Hermione was occasionally called upon for input, but the majority of the evening was Draco and her father's discussion. Her mother remained uncharacteristically silent while she observed her father. Though he appeared strict and rough she missed him all the same. And wasn't it a father's job to protect his daughter? Maybe she had been hasty in judging his reaction. Malfoy and he seemed to be getting along quite well. It wasn't long before the day dimmed and Hermione felt her eyelids fall heavy.

"C'mon Draco, I think we better get going. I'm awfully tired."

"Sure, love. I'll bring you back to my place." Hermione cringed. She had forgotten that they were pretending to the degree of getting her parents upset.

"You live in an apartment?" Her father asked.

"Nope. I've got a house of my own. It feels great when you own something," he smirked, "Though it's pointless with one person."

"That's why he has me." Hermione beamed before standing up. Her mother had already cleared the table in a huff while they were saying their goodbyes. She embraced both her parents before giving them the information about the engagement party and apparating away with Draco.

They landed in the same place as a couple nights ago. Draco hesitantly removed her coat and checked the clock. It read a mere nine fifty. He shuffled his feet before walking straight into the living room with Hermione at his heals. They took a seat next to each other, letting the silence settle in graciously.

"That was fun." He murmured.

"Ha," she coughed, "That was horrible. I never knew my mother could be so nasty. She should meet yours. 'You do know our views on celibacy, right?' Oh, I could just strangle her. And the screwed up part is we're messing with everyone's heads. It's not even real, Draco. If it's not real why am I getting so used to this?"

He cocked his head and grinned, "Hermione," he cooed gently, "Don't worry. We'll figure this out. We've still got ten whole days. Plus if you're getting used to it we can just stick it out," Draco laughed, "All jokes and humorous remarks aside, it'll be fine."

"Sure it will," she attempted to free herself of doubts. "Excited for our lovely party?"

"Oh yeah," he retorted with enthusiasm. And then, with a burst of spontaneity he took her hand and pulled her towards the front door, "Let's go for a walk. It's so clear out."

She scrunched her eyebrows and then agreed. She bundled up in haste as he locked up. Draco guided her towards the sidewalk, the moon lighting their path. Hermione was honestly surprised to find out that Draco Malfoy lived in a small house in a rural area. His property was large though the house sat small. And sidewalks lead to nowhere around here. But even as they appeared misguided he acted like he knew where he was going. When his home shrunk significantly in the distance he took her hand in his and grinned.

She subconsciously tugged on her knit hat with a mitten clad hand as he gazed at the sky. It was clear, just like he had said earlier. Stars were scattered and clouds were scarce. There was a moment where Hermione was confused as it appeared the stars had begun to fall, but what had joined their company was a fresh dose of snow. She watched Draco's expression as he realized it was snowing. It changed from a smirk to a growl and then he became content. Yes, content was what she concluded.

He wired his arm around her waist and pulled her into a hug. "Something about snow," he muttered into her hair, "It's awfully romantic. Too bad I don't have a real fiancé." She chose not to reply for she had nothing to say. She couldn't find anything in her brain. It had lost the ability to function as his breath sent chills down her neck. He traced the edge of her fingers with his and glanced upwards. The snow had coated Hermione's hat in a blanket of white.

Draco playfully brushed it off and leant his face in close to hers so their noses were touching. "It's beautiful, Hermione. Just like you."

"It's rather unfortunate I don't fall for predictable pickup lines."

"Who said it was a pickup line? Maybe I was just pointing out the obvious." He whispered huskily.

"Oh, you're quite the charmer."

"Am I really? I hadn't noticed."

"Of course you haven't noticed. It's not blatancy obvious, at all." She taunted with a hint of innocence lurking in the creases of her smile.

"So you must pay a lot of attention to me," He offered before he shuffled his feet and lead her back towards his house.

"You wish,"

"Ha." He snorted, "Yeah right." A smile surfaced and she giggled rather girly. "What was that?" he exclaimed as she shrugged. "Did you just _giggle_?"

"I'm a girl. I can giggle!" she protested before fixing her eyes on the falling snow. It had now whitened every inch of the surrounding landscape. The faint outline of the Malfoy residence was visible on the horizon. "Do you want to apparate back?"

"I was thinking of walking. But if you really want to—"

"No, it's alright. I'd like to walk too."

In the lengthy trip back, Hermione had felt sleep sneak up on her. It was now a nuisance and as they entered Malfoy's house she wished she requested he bring her home earlier. But she was ready for sleep now and all he could do was offer her a coffee or to bring her home. The better side of her pleaded for her own bed but she smiled and accepted his offer for a fresh cup of coffee.

She was seated on his couch, laughing with glee. The coffee had sure helped, along with the flickering fire in the fireplace and the intoxicating voice of Draco. They were wrapped in a blanket their feet scratching against each other. Her head was swinging back and forth in smiles. He couldn't quite remember what exactly he had said to make her laugh; all he could see was his effect on her. She was glowing: something he had never witnessed before. Surely it was a miracle. It had to be. And he found himself lucky to be able to see it.

"Hermione?" Draco started softly, looking into her eyes.

"Yeah?" she replied gently through a smile and returned his gaze. But he didn't reply. He kissed her. She was reluctant to let him get any further as she pulled away with only confusion. She had asked a silent question that he answered with another kiss. This time she didn't object, letting him continue. He twisted his hands through his hair and hers skated down his back. She fought back with might until they ended up fumbling towards the bedroom. He opened the door cautiously but she couldn't take it, she hurried him in, a playful smile about her face. He just smirked before kissing her again and pushing her onto the bed.


	5. Party Please

Chapter Five–Party Please

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: The first part of this chapter they have nine days left, the second part they have eight days left. I just thought that was important to point out. :)** (**the actual dates would be the 12th and 13th)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hermione woke up once again next to Draco Malfoy. This time she cautiously removed herself from the situation and headed to the bathroom. She trembled as she walked. She could not believe herself. She couldn't believe that she had let it get this far. Draco watched her leave, though his face had melted into a smile, he was worried with her reaction. She had left in such haste.

"Hermione?" he called, laying his head against his pillow.

"What?" she snapped before emerging from the bathroom. "Before you say anything I want to make it clear that this is to never happen again. You are Draco and I'm Hermione. We aren't meant to do this. Got it?"

His smile fell into a growl, "Don't get your knickers in a twist. What's wrong with a little meaningless sex now and then?"

"You," she bellowed, "are repulsive."

"Obviously not what you thought last night," he murmured under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Hermione, nothing at all."

"Good! You were about to make me late for work for the second time this week!"

"Give it a rest. It's not the end of the world."

"It is to me. I've got nothing but this job.'

"You've got me," he teased.

"No. I do not." She stuttered. She knew it would never work out; she had to end it before it progressed. "You and I are not on teasing basis anymore."

"What the hell?" he exclaimed before standing. "What did I do?"

"Other than roping me into this mess, nothing at all."

"You did it voluntarily. Don't blame me for anything." He yelled before walking over to her and grasping her shoulders. Her eyes melted suddenly before she sniffled slightly.

"I'll see you tonight; I've got a meeting with a client today so I'll only be in the office for a bit."

His gaze faltered, "Alright," he released her shoulders and she scampered back into the bathroom.

- - - - - - -- - -- - -- - - - - - - -

Mrs. Malfoy had been nice enough to send the dress to Hermione's home. When she arrived back from work she immediately pulled on the dress and prepared herself for a brutal night. Whatever it had in store she was surely going to be able to face head on. The dinner was to be held in the ballroom at the Malfoy Manor—yes it had a ballroom. Draco was supposed to be here already to pick her up so they could arrive together. One of the many things she had learned over the past couple of days was that Malfoys were all for appearances.

Her doorbell rang and she whipped the door open. Draco stood glumly, a black set of dress robes hanging from his frame with a gold tie. The tie, of course, matched her elegant gown of which he took this time to observe.

"Am I allowed to say you look nice?" he questioned before taking her hand and apparated. When the stomach jerking and limb pulling sensation ended she replied,

"Yes, you are."

He snorted as he led her into the ballroom. She half expected the compliment, but it never came. She supposed she had ended the reign of the nicer side of Draco. They were greeted instantly by Narcissa who complimented them both.

"Nice to see you're here on time."

"We barely made it; Hermione here is quite the fiery one sometimes."

"That's enough, Draco," Hermione coughed before playfully hitting him in the arm. Narcissa shuddered before stalking away in defeat. Draco's stomach had jerked the instant Hermione had touched him. It took all his strength to hamper the feeling.

"Hermione!" Ginny shouted from behind them. She rushed up to Hermione and pulled her into an embrace. "You look wonderful!"

"Thanks," Hermione beamed before sending a look towards Draco. "How are you?"

"Eh, I've been better. Harry is on his way. It seems he was held up at work. I saw Ron over there," Ginny muttered before gesturing towards the other side of the room. Hermione took that moment to notice the mass of people that were mingling. Did the Malfoys actually know this many people?

"Oh, Ginny. I barely know any of these people."

"Neither do I." Malfoy groaned as a balding man in an extremely tight tuxedo approached them. Ginny smirked before departing to greet her brother.

"Congratulations!" the pudgy man took Draco's hand. He hesitantly turned to Hermione and nodded his head before starting up a dull conversation with Draco. "So, I've heard that you switched departments at the ministry."

"Yes," Draco confirmed, "Hermione here works with me."

"Oh, really? Isn't that cute." A rather stout woman had appeared at the side of the balding man. "You two look so delightful together."

"Thank you," Draco choked out, "I didn't catch your name."

The woman smiled before replying and at that moment Hermione slipped into a daze. She was bored out of her wits. For once in her life she actually pitied Malfoy. He must be used to these gatherings. She now appreciated her muggle upbringing. When both the old folks left she turned to Draco with a pout drawn about her face.

"So this is what we have to do all night?"

"Ha, yes. It's quite the adventure." He replied sarcastically. She really did enjoy his sarcasm. There was an even flow throughout the night until the crowd began to trickle down and only a few were left. Draco turned to her and leant in very close. "If you don't mind, I'd like to kiss you. For appearances of course. Hopefully it won't be repulsive." She smirked before he planted one on her. She felt a fluttering sensation begin to take control of her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and broke away. "I am rather charming, aren't I?"

Just as Hermione was about to answer, a clearly fuming Ron came over. His face was a shade of red that matched his hair. "Hermione, what do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, Ron. Not again. Please."

"But I still haven't got an explanation. All you're doing is dismissing me."

"Please leave," Draco commanded, "Hermione's awfully tired."

"I'll come over tomorrow, Ron."

"But I won't be there!"

"It's a Saturday. There aren't any quidditch matches tomorrow." Draco spat. "You are a prat."

"Gee, thanks. You picked a nice one, Hermione. He's defiantly better than me. I'd really like to know what you were thinking. You must be off your rocker."

Instead of replying she pushed by Ron and towards Ginny. Tears were bubbling at her eyelids, though she was fully aware there was nothing to cry about. Ginny noticed her from a distance and hurried toward her. "What'd he do now?"

"Oh, I don't even know." Ginny smirked, fully aware that Hermione wasn't going to elaborate. Draco turned back to Ron and with great elegance and grace he raised his fist and punched Ron square in the nose. Though he couldn't identify the feeling surfacing that caused his rash actions he was sure he had done the right thing. Ron staggered backwards clutching his nose in his hands. A small stream of blood leaked through his knuckles and began to stain his white shirt. Instead of reciprocated he stormed out, Harry on his heels.

Hermione grinned and locked eyes with Draco. He had made her night. And boy, did he do that a lot lately. Mister and Misses Malfoy were engrossed in conversation with none other than the elder Parkinsons. Hermione scanned the room to see if Pansy was one of the few left. Unfortunately she was. The girl hurried towards Draco and dragged him outside. Hermione scowled jealously before turning to Ginny and growling.

"Let's follow them," Ginny beamed. They hurried out behind the pair. Draco and Pansy sat down on a bench. "Are they nuts?" Ginny whispered as they took a seat behind a bush, "It's like negative fifty out here."

"Shush!" Hermione hushed. They were talking.

"Draco, you can't be serious," Pansy cooed. "She's a mudblood."

"She's my mudblood." He smirked, "I love her."

"But I love you—I have forever. Your father called the other day. He made an offer. If I can break the two of you up before the wedding I get to marry you."

Draco shook his head in disbelief, "And you decided to tell me? I thought you couldn't get any more stupid, fowl, unattractive, and idiotic. But as it turns out, you have. I wish not to be associated with people like you. Please leave."

She scowled before standing as did Draco. He began to walk away but she grabbed his hand, "Oh and Draco, all you have to do is call. I'll be waiting." And with that she kissed him on the cheek, smiled seductively and apparated away.

"That bitch!" Hermione roared quietly.

"Wow," Ginny shook her head, "Pansy…"

"Should go kill herself!"

"Calm down Hermione."

"No, I won't!" Hermione squealed when Draco left their field of vision. Her blood was boiling hotter than ever. She wanted to get Parkinson back. How dare she kiss Draco? Who does she think she is? And what the hell is Lucius doing? "How could Malfoy do this?"

"Hopefully Draco didn't inherit any of his traits."

"I can only wish." Hermione stated before hurrying back inside.

"Miss Granger, how nice to see you," The cruel voice of Lucius caught her from behind as she headed towards Draco.

"Oh, hello!" She beamed enthusiastically, "Did you enjoy the party?"

He narrowed his eyes before continuing, "I invest none of my time in small talk. I want you to break up with my son. This whole ordeal has gone too far. I know you aren't involved with each other. I have my connections. So quit the game before you lose."

Hermione quickly composed herself, "I have no idea what you're talking about. How dare you insult the relationship me and your son have. Oh, and just a thought for you to ponder about: Draco doesn't care about your policies on celibacy."

She knew she had hit a nerve when he clenched his jaw and gritted his words through the slight opening in his mouth, "Has my dear son read you the _other _requirements of your marriage?"

"No, actually he hasn't. We've been busy doing _other_ things."

"Well let me enlighten you." He continued, "You've got to be expecting by your first anniversary and from then on you must produce three children. One of which must be a boy. You are to stay with my son for at least ten years and you must live together—"

"It doesn't sound too hard so far," Hermione choked out. Her eyes glimmered with a slight hint of danger.

"If you separate you cannot have any of the money or inheritance."

"I'm not in it for the money. And I would love to hear the wonderful array of your requirements, but I have a feeling Draco has them already. Plus, Draco and I have some business to discuss."

"Very well. My wife expects you for lunch tomorrow to speak about…wedding plans."

"I am aware." She snorted before turning on her heal and hurrying to Draco.

- - -- - - - - -- - - --

Hermione woke up the next morning well rested and in the sheets of her own bed. The sun was already shining so she assumed she was running late, but then realized that it was Saturday—finally. The stress of the past week had finally caught up to her. She was expected at the Burrow for breakfast and was anticipating the meeting. Perhaps then she would get to explain everything to everyone. Arthur and Molly had avoided her the previous night, only saying their congratulations. She was disappointed at their attitudes. Had she done anything but supposedly fall in love? Not really.

When the flesh on her knuckles scraped against the door to the Burrow the unsettling feeling in her stomach that had been there since yesterday afternoon roared about. Molly opened the door with a smile. Her apron was stained and her face was powder covered. She enthusiastically ushered Hermione inside and pushed her into the living area where the rest of the Weaselys sat.

Ron had a bitchy looking woman—bitchy looking being the only words to describe the scrawny, blonde next to him—on his arm. There was a carton of makeup applied to her face and her manicured nails all seemed to be perfect. Hermione introduced herself politely but the girl only uttered, "Janice Thrice."

Hermione supposed that was her name but dared not ask if she was right. Ginny sent her a few odd looks that Hermione dubbed up for interpretation. Just as Mrs. Weasely beckoned them into the kitchen Ginny came over to Hermione.

"You look nice today. Something good happen last night?"

"Ha, no. And I don't feel all that great." Hermione sighed.

"Neither do I, but according to Harry I'm glowing." Ginny replied generically. "I guess I don't glow all the time then." She laughed, "Did Draco tell you anything about Pansy?"

"We didn't really talk that much."

"Oh,"

"Do you mind if I use the bathroom?" Hermione pleaded.

"Um, no." Ginny smiled. "Trying to play sick again? You were never that good at it, even back in school."

"I never tried to play sick!"

"Oh, sure. Not even when you and Ron wanted to stay in together." Ginny smirked and Hermione officially accepted her defeat.

"And I'm not playing sick now."

"Well, with the benefits of being a healer I can try a few spells to see if you're sick." Hermione nodded at Ginny's suggestion, "Let's go to the bathroom. And even if you try hard enough, nothing is going to get you out of having to face Ron."

- - - -- - - - -- - -

"I don't know, Mother!" Draco protested as he sat at his dining room table with his mother.

"She's your fiancé. Where is she?"

"I don't know. She's never late."

"How would you know? You haven't even been dating long enough to figure that out." Draco's mother spat, obviously agitated with the lateness of Hermione.

"Well, I'm sorry." Draco started, "Shall we get started without her?"

"No. That would be rude, dear." Narcissa added, "Anything exciting happen lately?"

His mother's attempts at small talk were always awkward but for once in his life he was eager to answer. "Yes, actually. Pansy Parkinson approached me last night with an interesting offer. She said that she would accept a marriage proposal if I were to ask." He paused and looked directly into his mother's eyes, "I think I'm going to break it off with Hermione."

Narcissa could do nothing but gawk. She recognized the look in her son's eyes when he looked at Hermione. It was comparable to the one Lucius had for her when they were younger. "Why?"

"She is Hermione Granger. I am Draco Malfoy. We're from two separate worlds. Two places that we could never bring together. I just hope that she'll take it well."

"Are you serious? I have never seen you this in love in your whole life. You know you despise Pansy—"

"But she's a pureblood—"

"And you stopped believing in the nonsense of blood status long ago."

Draco inhaled viciously, "I have made my decision. It will never work. As much as I thought I loved her, it was simply lust. Shall we call and cancel?"

"I guess—"

"D-Draco," A small sob called from the entrance of their dining room. Hermione stood, her hair frizzed and her cheeks tear stained. Draco lunged out of his chair and hurried towards her, cupping her face in her hands.

"Who did this to you?" He whispered and when she didn't answer he whipped the tears from her eyes and repeated himself, "Who did this to you?"

She looked up in his eyes and inhaled, "You."

- -- - - -- - - -- - --

A/N: I hoped you liked the chapter. Thanks to everyone who has read and/or reviewed my story!


	6. The Ordeal

Chapter Six—The Ordeal

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: Thanks to all the reviewers/favoriters/alerters/readers!

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"D-Draco," A small sob called from the entrance of their dining room. Hermione stood, her hair frizzed and her cheeks tear stained. Draco lunged out of his chair and hurried towards her, cupping her face in her hands.

"Who did this to you?" He whispered and when she didn't answer he whipped the tears from her eyes and repeated himself, "Who did this to you?"

She looked up in his eyes and inhaled, "You."

"What?" Draco exclaimed.

"You did this to me."

"Care to explain?" He snapped.

"Can we go somewhere else?"

"I guess," he supplied before turning to his mother who then nodded. He led her out of the dining room and closed the doors behind them. They stood silently for a bit, taking in the gloomy scenery of the Malfoy Manor. "What happened, Hermione?"

She was hesitant to start. There were several things she wanted to say. Several parts of her that wanted to hit him, hurt him, run from him. But she stood beside him. She took his hand as she concentrated on the ground. She had lost all confidence and Draco had noticed this. He wanted to fix this potential problem, yet she wasn't speaking. Was he supposed to assume something through the silence?

He recalled the last couple of moments when he had been contempt with marrying Pansy, when he realized that he was nowhere near deserving of Hermione and when the idea of sentencing himself to a life with her was horrible. But when he was graced with her presence she was a contrast to the idea of her he had built up in his mind all these years. She was stronger than he had assumed. But now she was a wreck. He thought it his job to fix it.

"I haven't all day," he seethed.

"I don't suspect you do." She snorted before dropping his hand and backing away, "Is there a better time?"

"You're supposed to be here right now. We are supposed to be having lunch with my mother to discuss wedding plans. Remember?"

"Oh, dear. I forgot." She groaned before leaning her head against a nearby wall. He watched her intently, but still couldn't figure her out. The red, tearstained cheeks had returned to their original color, her hair wasn't as frizzy as it had first appeared but she was still upset.

"Why are you being so difficult?!" he shouted. Her reply was silence. "What is going on?!" Once again she remained silent. "Hermione, I can't take this." His eyes searched hers before they relaxed and he raised his voice once more just loud enough for his mother to hear, "W-We're over"

Hermione gasped and inhaled. A pang of confusion settled in her heart. Had he just done that? But he was Malfoy. He was all for appearances. He had used her current pain and suffering to break them up in this sick fantasy of his.

He leant in close to her and with finality he whispered in her ear, "Think she bought it?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically and managed a smile. Draco clenched his jaw. He fidgeted with his shirt before pacing back and forth. He couldn't place himself. He didn't know where to go. They could hear the rustling behind the dining room door. The plates were being cleared and Mrs. Malfoy was removing the wedding stuff from the table.

He turned back to her and smiled.

"You okay?" he had remembered that she was upset in reality. He remembered that he had taken a real issue and brought it into their little game. He immediately felt in the wrong.

"No. I'm not." She sobbed. He brought her into an embrace and stroked her back gently. "What's wrong?"

She began to mumble into his chest, "Ron…Pansy…wedding…baby…Ginny…Molly."

"What?" He snapped. She failed to answer him with words, this time biting her lip and turning up to face him.

"Ron's being stupid, I tried talking to him but he wouldn't even attempt to listen. I overheard you and Pansy, that stupid little bitch. And the wedding is—well would have been—really soon. I was getting so nervous over my parents. And, oh dear, the Weaselys are treating me so differently, except Ginny. It's like I'm an outsider or something. It's all too much. I'm so overwhelmed."

"And how did I do all of that to you?"

She considered his words before locking eyes with him, "You're the arse who got me pregnant."

He sniggered slightly before her words settled in, "Wait, what?"

She rolled her eyes before continuing, "I said—"

"I heard you. No need to repeat it." He said rather coldly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"It's not too early to tell?"

"Magic. We do magic you idiot."

"True." He pondered over her words before taking a seat against the wall and gesturing for her to join him. They sat in silence for a while before he began once more. "So a kid?"

"Mhm." She replied, still studying her hands.

"An heir to the Malfoy inheritance," Draco mused, "I wonder what Father would think."

"Do not even consider telling your parents about this!" She exclaimed.

But he turned to her with heavy eyes, "I already told my mother I was breaking it off with you to marry Pansy."

She furrowed her brow, "Why would you do that?"

"Because I wouldn't want to trap you in a marriage when there was another option."

"Looks like you've trapped me." She smirked, pushing a stray hair behind her ear.

"No. I'll marry Pansy. You'll take the kid and raise it without me. It'll be for the best." He added with force before standing up.

"W-What?" she coughed. "Are you seriously considering that?"

"Yes. I am. You obviously don't love me. You told me the other day this would never work. You told me that you were Hermione and I was Draco. That we could never be."

"That was before this." She yelled. Hermione now stood across from him, her arms waving up and down.

"Technically it was after." He added cleverly.

"You know what? We're done here. I'll see you around Malfoy." And with great hesitation she apparated, leaving Draco there alone. He hurried back in the other room to face his mother.

"You broke it off with her, son?"

"Actually," Draco began. He had entered the room with all intentions to tell her the truth about everything. But some little part of him didn't want to lose Hermione, "I didn't."

- - -- - -- - -- - -- - --

"And then I said I'd see him around," Hermione finished. She and Ginny sat on the couch in Hermione's home.

"Oh, Hermione." Ginny was attempting to comfort her but was not succeeding. She, still unaware that this wasn't a real engagement, was confused as to why Draco would suddenly break it off with Hermione for Pansy. "He'll come around."

"I don't even know if I want him to come around."

"You don't mean that."

"Well, you never know. He's going back to Pansy now. They'll get married and have three little Slytherin brats and they'll be happy." She sniffled into a fresh tissue before crumpling it up and throwing it into the growing pile.

"I don't think so. I don't think they'll be happy."

"You're supposed to say that because you're my friend."

"Maybe." Ginny muttered before ripping the box of tissues from Hermione's grasp and looking her in the eyes. "You're being a baby about this. He won't let you down."

"How do you know, Ginny?'

"I don't. You know why? Because there's something wrong here. You aren't telling me something. And do _not _try to convince me you aren't lying about something."

Hermione huffed silently and then decided to divulge her secrets in one fairly long sentence, "Because it was a fake engagement to try and convince Draco's father to back out on the requirements for Draco to come into his inheritance that I went along with for no real reason and his father still hasn't told him he doesn't have to marry me, though he has confronted me about the lingering fact that he still doesn't believe our engagement is concrete."

"Wow," Ginny exhaled, "So you aren't in love with Malfoy?"

"Well, I don't think so."

Ginny then put her fingers to her forehead and with a stable voice she reprimanded Hermione, "Then where do you get off sleeping with him?"

- -- -- -- - - - -- - -- -

"Hello Father," Draco nodded before taking a seat in the grey, velvet chairs of his father's study. "What is it that you wanted?"

"To discuss the ordeal of Miss Granger."

"The ordeal?" Draco snarled, while running a hand through his messy hair.

"Yes Draco. As you may have noticed, the press is all over your potential union with a mudblood—"

"What did I say about calling her that?" Draco shouted while slamming his hand on the wooden desk.

"Do not interrupt me!" Lucius bellowed. "Learn to respect me and your family. That is why I am ready to make a deal with you." Draco arched an eyebrow slightly before nodding for his father to continue. "I am willing to extend the deadline for your choice in marriage by exactly one year if you do not choose Miss Granger as your bride."

Draco sighed and leaned back in his chair, softly considering what he had hoped to hear. Yet his father's words hadn't come as a relief at all. He had done countless things, hurt Hermione, and hurt himself just to hear his father say that. But he couldn't believe it. He had to confirm what he was hearing, "What makes you think I'll even consider?"

"I have connections at the ministry, ones who tell me of your reaction when you learned that she worked with you at the ministry. You didn't meet her until the day we told you about the engagement. You two are quite the liars. Though when you are with the Granger girl you are completely enamored and provide a very convincing display of love, which I am starting to believe—which leads me to another point. I will not allow a Malfoy to show that much vulnerability in front of people."

"Vulnerability?" Draco scoffed.

"Yes, son. You are weak when you are with her. I can see how she controls you."

"Me? Weak? Because of Hermione? Are you serious?" Draco spat. "I am not controlled by her."

"That is what you believe. But I have noticed subtle changes, Draco. And I am not pleased. The girl is not a good influence, whether you love her or not. I will not chance it and let you two get closer. Love is just a weakness, son. Malfoys are not weak."

Draco chose not to speak for he could tell his father had more to add.

"I trust Miss Parkinson exchanged words with you last night."

"Yes." Draco snapped. "And I did not appreciate it at all—pulling me from my own engagement party."

"Don't be delusional." He yelled. "Since I am impatient and I saw Pansy's efforts going nowhere I felt it necessary to intervene. You need to stop all this fussing. I need your final decision now."

Draco's eyes widened. He tried to compose himself. He was going to have a child, but he could be free. Free enough to find the real love of his life. His father was giving him a year. _A whole fucking year._

"Will you accept the one year extension or marry your filthy, little mudblood?"

- -- - -- -- - -- - - - -- - --

A/N: So it might have been a little shorter than previous chapters, but I hope you all enjoyed it.


	7. Nightmares

Chapter Seven—Nightmares

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: here's another chapter for you all. I hope you guys like it. I love all your feedback! :)

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"Don't be delusional." He yelled. "Since I am impatient and I saw Pansy's efforts going nowhere I felt it necessary to intervene. You need to stop all this fussing. I need your final decision now."

Draco's eyes widened. He tried to compose himself. He was going to have a child, but he could be free. Free enough to find the real love of his life. His father was giving him a year. _A whole fucking year._

"Will you accept the one year extension or marry your filthy, little mudblood?"

Draco shook his head slightly before standing from the smooth, velvet chairs. He faced his father and with his hereditary smirk he answered quite smoothly, "I think I'll accept my mudblood."

His father snarled before continuing, "You should be ashamed to call yourself a Malfoy," he spat. "I am inclined to disagree with your decision. I was going to give you a year Draco. This is not a laughing matter. Forget sticking it to me, forget throwing in my face that you are independent. You must seriously consider that you must produce three children, stay married for ten years. Those are three whole children," Lucius sneered before gesturing towards the door, "But I am sure you'll be happy with your little half-bloods. I'll see you tomorrow morning at breakfast, perhaps you can bring Miss Granger along."

Draco nodded before departing. With haste he apparated to his home and settled in for the night, yet the thought of breakfast with his parents was never more terrifying. He must come up with some excuse. He wouldn't have time to speak with her beforehand.

The morning soon rose like a delicate bundle of blue and Draco moped over to the Malfoy Manor. He was never sure why his parents forced him to come every Sunday and _enjoy _their company. Lately it was more of a duty than a blessing. He could foresee the potential problem in today's meeting for he did not choose to bring Hermione.

He knocked on the door, it was answered by another one of his family's crooked house elves, and he was lead towards his parents. His father was reading _The Prophet _and his mother was writing a letter. When he bid his good mornings and sat down there was mere silence. It was around a minute before they acknowledged his presence. He was not too fond of their new tactic.

"So, Draco, where is Hermione?" Lucius questioned, keeping his eyes on the paper.

"She is at home," he quickly recalled his previously formed story. "Something about stomach pains, being rather tired, I do believe she threw up."

"Oh," his mother gasped, "That can't be good. Shall we send someone over to check on her?"

"That won't be necessary, Mother. But thank you. I'll tell Hermione you wish her well." Draco nodded his head in appreciation. "I haven't gotten around to reading _The Prophet _yet today. Anything important happen?"

His father glanced up at him with steel eyes, "Nothing unparticular. The front page is covered in Potter—I guess he's gotten that blood traitor of his pregnant. Oh, yes. There is another article on you and your _fiancé. _It is 

speculating your relationship. The public is having a frenzy with you two. This article here has a theory that Miss Granger is also pregnant. Perhaps they aren't just speculating."

"Are you trying to hint to something, Father? I must say you aren't being very subtle."

"I am just a little curious. While I am so _deeply _convinced of your love for the Granger girl, it seems that your words last night were based in revenge. I did not see good intentions in those eyes of yours Draco."

"What is he talking about, Draco, dear?"

"Father offered me a one year extension on my marriage to find someone new—as long as it was not Hermione. I declined his offer. I must say, I never knew he would stoop so low. I thought Malfoys never backed out on their word. Once there is an agreement, there it stays. I was awfully surprised. Care to explain, Father?"

"Draco, I do not believe this is the appropriate time to be discussing the matter of your marriage to that mudblood."

"Lucius, language." Narcissa squeaked, "I have actually become quite fond of the girl."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. She's intelligent, pretty and I can tell you love her. I just think Lucius is jealous."

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, you are jealous." Narcissa retorted, "You see the life full of opportunities your son has and you are disappointed at the fact you can do so much more with his youth than he appears to be. But do not fret, Lucius, I believe our son has found a good one. She is definitely a step up from Pansy."

"I like Pansy." Mr. Malfoy interjected. "I believe she would be a good match for our son."

"If a good match meant someone who has at least, if not less than, half the intelligence of Draco."

"What," Lucius exclaimed as he stood up, "has gotten into you this morning?"

"It must be the winter air. It's almost Christmas! Oh, and the wedding is in a mere week!"

"We are well aware." Lucius retorted.

She arched her eyebrows, "Well, you don't seem too excited. I would think with the marriage of your son you might crack a smile here and there. But not even the happiness of our son has an effect on you. I just hope by the time we have a grandchild you'll accept this."

"That is _enough_. I'll see you later Narcissa. Goodbye, Draco." And with that Lucius stalked out of the room, an anxious house elf at his side.

"Thank you for defending Hermione. She deserves your kind words."

"I believe she deserves much more than that, love." Narcissa smiled and tucked her wrinkled napkin away before leaving the room. Draco had once again encountered a brutal breakfast at the Malfoy Manor. With great hesitation he reached over and picked up the paper. The front cover was indeed the Potters. But the article off to the side caught his eye; it was of course about him and Hermione. There was a picture, most likely taken from the party, with Hermione and him smiling. The article immediately brought him displeasure.

__

_Half Blood Children on the Way?_

_With the current confusion surrounding Mr. Draco Malfoy and his choice of a future spouse, one is forced to wonder of alternate reasons behind this sudden declaration. It was Friday night when they held an engagement party. Yes the room was decked in gold—a Gryffindor color—and the two were obviously stunning. But what caught me, and probably the world, off guard was the idea of Lucius Malfoy, previous Death Eater and Dark Magic enthusiast, allowing his son to settle for a muggle born witch. There have been many theories tossed about. The most convincing of the bunch was a potential bun in the oven. Perhaps our two lovebirds are not in love at all, just dealing with the consequences of a fatal one night stand. Though Miss Hermione Granger was never known to be a rule breaker or one to hold that type of reputation, the war is famous for changing people. Draco Malfoy has changed, according to his boss, "The entry of Hermione to Draco's life has seemed to lift his spirits. It has brought out a part of him that everyone was sure was lost in the war." _

_Well, Draco. Everyone here at _The Prophet_ would like to congratulate you on breaking the blood barriers that have haunted the wizarding society for years. You, being an influential society member, have the ability to sway people and set examples. We thank you for conquering the discrimination this world faces today. Oh, and if there is a little one on the way, we'd like to suggest you consider an interview with _The Prophet_._

He was indeed furious, throwing the paper at the ground. Consider an interview with them? Never. He would never stoop that low. Though, he had stooped low enough to completely betraying Hermione. Draco stood up and apparated to Hermione's house. When he regained his composure he knocked on the door and waited. Though Draco was never a fan of waiting, he stayed for the three whole minutes it took Hermione to open the door.

"What do you want?" she spat. He could tell she had been crying.

"To speak to you about the wedding."

"Well, it's off so there's no need for you to be here."

"About that," Draco sighed before pushing past her and into her house. She rolled her eyes before closing the door behind her and turning to face him.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Draco shrugged before continuing, "Last night my father gave me an ultimatum. He said I could marry you on Sunday or take a one year extension."

"Oh, that's great!" Hermione exclaimed before running over to him and hugging him.

"Yeah," he said, his brow bent with confusion. She pulled away from him, backed up and straightened out her sweater. There was silence for a moment as she anticipated his response with a smile. He inhaled deeply and then spoke, "I hoped that would be your reaction. I agreed to marry you."

Hermione's eyes widened before she started shaking her head uncontrollably. "You—Do—Oh—I ought to—you little—ugh!"

"Hermione?" he coughed, "Alright there?"

"No! The only reason I offered to help you was so your father would go back on his word and give you more time. _Which he did. _Please, tell me why you decided to marry me instead," she shouted as she brought her hands to her head and muttering under her breath.

"I—"

"Do you realize this is my life? My whole life? You are marrying me off. I'm stuck with you! You don't have that kind of control. Why did you consider this?" she was yelling now, her curls flying in all directions as she paced.

"Well, you—"

"I don't understand you." She spat. "Get out! Get out, now. I can't even look at you. Disappointing, that's what it is. After all of this,"

"He said if I was to wait the whole year I wouldn't be able to marry you and with the baby and all, I just figured that this option would be best."

"Oh, so one minute you want me to raise the child alone, the next you want to marry me. Just stop. Stop making my life a total wreck. I'll see you at work tomorrow. Leave." She extended a finger towards the door, not even looking up at him.

He clenched his jaw and scowled before slamming the door. There was no need to apparate. He had nowhere to go back to. All he had was an empty house and a lonely life. Which he would not have minded previous to re-meeting Hermione. She was the only one who could fill up his house; the only person who could fill up his heart.

- - -- -- -- -- -- -- - -- - --

Hermione had stopped herself from crying the afternoon away. Instead she buried herself in a book about parenting in her room and shut the rest of the world out. Her biggest obstacle was avoiding the thought of Draco while reading. Every sentence and every phrase reminded her of him and his characteristics. Deep inside she knew that she wanted to be with him, but that logical, responsible side of her was insisting she do this on her own. Draco was never nice, even in their school days. He had manipulated her into this whole mess, using his so called charm.

She eventually became defeated with her current read and threw it off to the side. With much enthusiasm she hurried to the kitchen in search of something to eat. When the light from the fridge poured out onto the floor a figure crept out of the shadows.

"Who's there?" she whispered, attempting to shield the fear in her voice.

"It is just me, Miss Granger. Do not worry," Lucius murmured as he revealed himself. He positioned himself across from her as she flicked on the light.

"What do you want?"

"Draco informed us you were sick, that's why you did not come to the Manor for breakfast this morning. I came to verify his statement."

"Does Draco know you're here?" she mocked, folding her arms across her chest in a defensive manner.

Lucius' mouth twitched slightly before he continued, "That, Miss Granger, would defeat the whole purpose of this meeting. I thought you to be remotely intelligent." He stifled a scoff before beginning once more, "Were you indeed sick today?"

"Yes."

"With what symptoms?"

Her mind had begun to race, hopefully he would not try to enter her mind. She blurted out the first things that came to mind, "Um, I threw up late last night. My stomach has been acting up lately. I've been rather exhausted, too. I feel a little better now, though I was just getting something to eat before heading to bed, _until you arrived."_

He snorted, "Surely your mother taught you not to eat right before bed. It can cause quite the nightmares." Before she could respond he apparated away and left her mildly bewildered. She shrugged off their encounter, had a bowl of ice cream and then headed to bed.

After sleep caught her and she lay motionless in her bed, the dreams began. They were dreams of terror and evil. Dreams of her unborn baby being ripped from her abdomen, Draco collapsing at the alter, blood pouring from the heads of her loved ones. These dreams were only comparable to the several she encountered during the war. But when she awoke the next morning it was one specific dream that stuck out:

_She was exiting a church, the bells ringing six times to signal the end of the day. Dusk was approaching fondly as she headed to the cemetery in back. The roses in her hands prickled her wrist as she set them down on a grave. Though the words were illegible she knew it was her baby. And from behind came the cackling laughter of Pansy, her shrewd face mocking Hermione's tears. And when Hermione rose to face her, Pansy spoke: "I'm glad we killed your little half blood. It was actually quite fun. Leave, mudblood, you aren't wanted here anymore. You haven't got a husband, a baby or a life. Just leave before we kill you just like we killed your baby."_

_And before Hermione could run Pansy took out her wand and pointed it at her, backed by a smirking Draco. Hermione pleaded with him, "don't let her do this. Please. Please, don't." But it was no use. She lifted her arm and opened her mouth and just as she muttered the first syllable in the fatal killing curse—_

She sat up in bed and glanced at the clock. It was time to brace herself for another day of work. And as she readied herself for the day ahead, she stumbled upon a slight realizations. Those dreams of hers seemed more like nightmares. Nightmares she hoped would never come true.


	8. You Love Me?

Chapter Eight—You Love Me?

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: Okay, so maybe Malfoy isn't very cannon in this chapter. But oh, well. I hope you like it! :)

Oh and the numbers in parentheses are footnotes. :)

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"I'm so sorry, Mr. Malfoy isn't in today. I'll leave him a note to get back to you." Hermione said, her tone was nice, but just because the man in front of her seemed rather disheveled. Right now she wanted to find and strangle Malfoy. She fiddled with some parchment on her desk as she tried to appear busy. She had no time for this man right now.

"Oh, alright. I better be going then," the stout man hurried out of their department and she sat down in a huff. Glad to get rid of him, she settled into some more work. It was not long before she was interrupted again. The process continued until the super saturation of her work hours had her pleading for mercy.

Malfoy had decided to blow off work today, she tried to contact him several times but there were no replies. As the day progressed the situation became worse. Everyone who would normally go to him for help was coming to her. She was overwhelmed and exhausted so when the end of the day came she headed home to relax. As soon as she was headed towards the floo network another rather disheveled person confronted her. The young man seemed to be an assistant of some sort. Green flashed elegantly against his pale features while he stared at her with sympathetic eyes.

"Hermione Granger?" He questioned, not giving her sufficient time to answer. It was when she was in the middle of her nod that he continued, "I was instructed to give this to you," The man faked a smile, handed Hermione a note and then hurried away. She opened it wearily. She just wanted to get home. As the note creased open she begged it wasn't work related.

_Hermione,_

_There's a little problem over at the burrow and we believe it belongs to you._

_Ron_

Hermione scrunched up her face before heading towards a fireplace and muttering, "The Burrow." What kind of problem could she have? Crookshanks could barely move anymore, his odd eating habits had caught up to him lately. When she appeared she heard several shouts from the living room and entered with precaution. She steadied herself against the doorframe with a grin. There stood a very intoxicated Draco Malfoy, shouting obscenities about woman and God and law. (1)

"Where's my Ur-my-nee?" he shouted, he advanced rather quickly on Ron, his finger extended aggressively. "You said she was comin'."

"She'll be here—oh look. There she is," Ron shouted as he pointed towards Hermione. Draco ambled over, catching his balance on the couch. Molly watched with shock while Harry and Ginny were exchanging giggles in the corner. It was almost as if they were mocking him. Had this been a more serious situation Hermione would have considered scolding the both of them, but even to her the sight of a drunk Draco Malfoy had her amused.

"Hey guys. Is _this _my problem?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come on Draco, let's go." She reached out for his arm but he shook his head drastically.

"No. I'm not gonna go anywheres with you. Not, not until you talk to me." He slurred, latching onto her arm for support. His hair was sticking up in several directions and black circles rung his eyes. His breath smelled like alcohol, just as she expected. Hermione couldn't stand the smell, but braved it just so he would cooperate.

"Draco, dear, we should leave now." She tried to drag him away but his feet were doing their best to stay still. He wasn't very successful, though. He kept attempting to get support from their company. But no one dared move to help him, though Ginny and Harry were still laughing and making jokes.

"I love you," he slurred, "Love, yep, that's it. I love you."

"You love me?" she questioned, her hands now on her hips.

"Even though I'm not supposed to, I think I can break the rules. Just for you." He said, his eyes twinkling as he wrapped his arms around her waist and inhaled in her hair. "And you know what else?" he smiled rather awkwardly before pressing a hand to her abdomen and shouting rather loudly, "I love you."

"You already said that, Draco." She could tell her tone was harsh and her words were blunt, but he wouldn't be hurt. This was Draco she was dealing with. He could take anything and not sacrifice his pride.

"Really?" he furrowed his brows and scowled with the opposite of acceptance, "I love you. I really do. You have to believe me, Her—Hermy."

"Hermione." She corrected, "And I never said I didn't believe you."

"Yes, you did. You did. Every day, you did. That fucking baby did." He mumbled. "I'm not crazy, the baby talks to me. It tells me you hate me. I love you, I love you. Believe me. I would never hurt our fetus, even though it's all a game."

"Draco, stop right now." Hermione protested as the eyes of her company widened.

"My dad can fuck off. So what if I'm still gonna marry you? So what if you aren't my real boyfriend—girlfriend? I love you, love. Love you so much. My dad says I love you so much. He tells me. He tells me I love you."

"Let's go, Draco. I'm so sorry, you guys, for the disturbance. I'll bring him back to my place and then we'll—"

"Make another baby!" Draco interrupted as he took her hand and squeezed it affectionately. "We do that a lot lately."

"Is this true, Hermione?" Molly questioned as Ron turned a vibrant shade of red. He shook his head in disbelief as he turned to the pair.

"Of course it is. Just like how this was all pretending for my father and his fatherness and my inheritance and my father," Draco added. "I love you, Hermeye."

"Hermione!" Ron shouted, "This was all fake?"

"You can't believe him, he's delusional," Ginny stepped in, trying to rescue her friend. But Harry was behind her fighting with a fit of laughter.

"No," Hermione interjected, "It's okay Ginny. The truth is that Draco and I pretended to be engaged to get his father to back out of a deal he made Draco take."

"And then we made little Ernest." (2)

"Ernest?" Hermione asked. She arched her brow in disapproval.

"Mhm. I picked out the name for our babies. All of em will be named Ernest. All nine. Nine. Oh, boy. I love you." He sighed as he stretched his arms around her waist and pushed her towards the door. "Baby time!"

"Wait, right now." Ron tried, "Are you seriously pregnant?"

Hermione struggled with herself. This wasn't how she wanted them to find out. But she glanced at Draco, his face twisted in a giddy smile and his sharp features falling soft. "Yes," she murmured. But Ron wouldn't hear of it. He hurried over to Draco and grabbed him by the collar, shouting in his face:

"You piece of scum. You used Hermione and now she's having your kid!"

"Ernest, its name is Ernest." Draco corrected before ruffling Ron's hair and removing his hands from his shirt. "We've gotta go, get busy and do stuff."

"I can't believe you, Hermione." Harry spat, his eyes filled with confusion and then amusement, "Are you seriously considering having nine kids?" he laughed before glancing at Ron.

"No, Harry. Don't worry." She smiled, happy that Harry understood. But Ron still stood, enraged and red in the face. Hermione wanted Ron to just stop. But she had abandoned all her energy when Draco had decided to go out and get so fucking drunk.

"That scum!" Ron bellowed while pointing a finger at Draco, "You actually associate with that scum."

"I actually slept with that scum," Hermione blurted out, unable to control herself. She heard Ginny laugh far off in the distance, but she couldn't see her. Ron's big head was in the way. Hermione was curious as to how Molly was taking this, but once again Ron was blocking her vision so she was forced to continue their poor excuse of a conversation. It seemed like she was miles away, her mind rushing with the stress of work and all this Malfoy business. All she wanted was a good night's rest.

"Well, we better be off. Thanks again for taking care of my little problem." Hermione smiled before tightening her grip around Draco's waist and readying herself to apparate. She adjusted her shirt and then glanced up at Draco, his eyes were glazed over and his expression was fixed on Ron.

"Wait a second," Ron started again, "I just want you to know that I don't want to associate with you, not until you've ditched him. Not until he is out of your life."

"That's gonna be hard, with Ernest, you know?" Draco slurred before Hermione apparated, completely ignoring Ron's statement. Leave it to Ron to be completely unreasonable and act like a complete jerk. She wondered why he had the right to get so upset. It was her life, after all.

They arrived at Hermione's house in seconds, Draco still hanging to her arm. His weight was becoming a burden. She attempted to turn the lights on and go to the kitchen but he followed with enthusiasm as if it was some kind of childhood game. Her patience was wearing thin when he followed her into the bathroom. Hermione pushed him back towards the sofa with haste. He stumbled about, grasping out for something to catch his balance on but only finding air. She tried to sit him down on the couch but he protested, "The bedroom."

"You are staying on this couch." She reprimanded, trying to free herself from his grip around her wrist. But he wasn't giving up. His eyes fell sad and his lips parted slowly as if to protest again.

"Bed," he groaned rather obnoxiously and pointed in the direction of the bathroom.

"Fine!" she was exhausted and not in the mood for his behavior. Carefully, she pulled him into her bedroom and set him on the bed, yet he still latched onto her wrist. Now this was getting annoying. She even considered going back to Ron and leaving Draco there.

"C'mon!" he gestured to the empty space next to him, patting it with over-exaggeration.

She smiled weakly before replying, "I'll be right back, okay?" She gently pried his fingers from her wrist as he pouted. She noted to remember everything he did. She would make sure to never let him live this one down.

"Alright…just tell Ernest I love 'em. Okay?"

She nodded before departing, making sure to close the door behind her. The kitchen was cluttered, a complete mess. She tried to recall when she had slipped on housekeeping but her memory failed. Instead of concentrating on the mess, she made Draco and herself each a cup of coffee and headed back into the bedroom. When she got there he was sprawled across her bed, his face flush and his shoes still on. She smiled genuinely, setting the mugs off to the side and walking over to the bed. Hermione busied herself with the task of removing his shoes while trying not to watch him sleep. Sure he could be a bastard, but even he looked _normal _as he slept. Never before had she took the time to look at him while slumber graced his features. But she jumped on the opportunity and walked over to the side of the bed. She brushed his bangs off his forehead with clammy hands and then smirked, smiling wider on the inside. And before she could control herself she bent down and kissed him on the forehead. She did not stick around much longer, finding the empty atmosphere of his presence rather unsettling.

She tried to make herself comfortable on the couch but she wanted her bed. She _deserved _her bed. Her mind flashed with ideas of dragging Draco across the floor and throwing him onto the couch, but against her better judgment she turned back to her bedroom. The door creased open as a steady stream of moonlight poured from the window. It was beautiful. Usually she was asleep when the moon was at its high point.

With reluctance she slid under the sheets and took her place next to Draco, making sure not to wake him in the process. It wasn't long before sleep kidnapped her, much like how the idea of Ernest had captured Draco.

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A/N: (1) Okay, I will admit it. The part where this chapter goes "…obscenities about women and God and Law" is actually a quote from an amazing song by the Cold War Kids. I believe the specific quote is "Yelling obscenities about women and god and law." It's called St. John and it's off of their album Robbers and Cowards. That band kicks major ass. :) And now the song is pretty much stuck in my head. But I couldn't resist adding it in there. I don't know if any of you are Cold War Kids fans, but whatever.

(2) Ernest…I got this name from my biography assignment at school. I'm reading a book on Ernest Hemmingway, it's very interesting if biographies are your thing. They aren't really mine, but I've got to read it. :) But anyway, that's where I got the name.

I'm done rambling now. :) Hope you liked this chapter. I love all your feedback! Thanks again for reading.


	9. Not My Place

Chapter Nine—Not My Place

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: Woo! Another chapter! Sorry if the update took longer than usual…I had my paper on Hemingway to write and Death Cab's new album came out so…I kind of neglected my poor, lonely stories. But here's another chapter. And thanks for all the feedback on Ernest. :)

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He grumbled a bit and then groaned, lifting a weary hand to his face and ruthlessly rubbing his eyes. Draco came to a sudden realization when he recognized the weight on his chest as Hermione's head and the pounding head as an indication that he had been drinking yesterday. But his distress was extended when he remembered, "Ernest." He groaned rather loudly as he shifted and threw his head back against the pillow in defeat.

"I don't like that name." Hermione added rather wearily, "It sounds like an older person. I'm sure our kid would get teased with a name like that."

"What makes you think that?" he asked rather defensively.

"When can you honestly say that you've met a person named Ernest and not thought it was an unusual name?"

"I hold no biases with names, mine is Draco. And you! You shouldn't judge, your name is _Hermione._"

"What's wrong with Hermione?" she asked playfully, glancing up at him.

"Nothing, it's just rather unusual, is all." He added before stroking her arm with his thumb.

"And I don't want nine kids," she laughed.

"Definitely not." There was a pause and she locked eyes with him, unable to let go. The sudden urge to kiss him rose up in her stomach. She attempted to fight it off with all her might and in the end triumphed.

There was a moments silence before she continued, "So we're on speaking terms? I know I was rude and harsh the other day when you confronted me about the wedding, but you have to—"

"I understand." His words were blunt and almost unimportant if it weren't for the fact they were coming from him at this exact moment.

Another silence crept up on them until she interrupted it, "You said you loved me." It was said, she couldn't take it back. But she felt the air tense as soon as it left her mouth. He shifted around before getting up and going into the living room. She followed in frustration. "Don't you have something to say about your behavior yesterday?"

"Tell your friends I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I promise." He grabbed his coat from the couch and put it on.

"That's not what I'm talking about." She added defensively and ran a hand through her hair of which reeked of bed head.

"Then what are you talking about?" he sneered, crossing his arms across his chest.

"The stuff you said."

"Half of it is fuzzy, I remember—"

"I don't care what you remember." She snapped, rather overcome by the sudden urge to slap him upside the head.

"Fine, if you're going to have an attitude I'll just go." He took a step towards the door but she mirrored his actions, causing him to stop. "Going somewhere?"

"No, and neither are you, not until you explain yourself."

"I don't have to justify my actions," he exclaimed with anger. "I can do whatever I want whenever I want, Hermione, and you can't do anything to change that."

"But you told your father you were going to marry me! MARRIAGE!"

"Listen, whatever I said yesterday, while I was intoxicated and delusional, I did not mean." He hesitated slightly before continuing, "I don't love you." Hermione could feel her heart stop for a second, she couldn't figure out why. Surely it was not disappointment. She concluded it was frustration from Malfoy. "As for the marriage thing, I'm sorry. I recognize that I took the wrong of two paths. It wasn't my place to say any of that stuff, you clearly stated you don't want to be with you. I see now where you are coming from and I have several ideas on how to exclude you from my wedding. None of which I plan on telling you as of right now. Thank you for keeping me tonight, I'll see you around."

He opened the door but her soft voice caused him to turn once more, "So that's it? You're just going to leave."

"Yes." And he parted without a glance backwards. He thought he heard a small sob in his wake but was not going to look back to see. The sight of her in tears might cause him to return and he knew he could not go back to her. If he was going to keep one thing it would be his pride.

Hermione was crying. She was weeping with force, sitting on the floor and burying her head in her hands. He had left her and their baby. It was her fault. All her fault. If she had given him a chance everything would be fine. But she had been stubborn—they were both stubborn.

There was crack and behind her approached a figure. She contemplated who it was until a firm hand rested on her shoulder, "Hey," Ron started, before sitting down beside her. "What'd the bastard do now?"

"Nothing." She mumbled before burying her head in his chest. Ron smiled slightly as he stroked her hair. Perhaps if he could accept the fact she was carrying Draco Malfoy's child everything would work out fine between them. Plus, there was no more quidditch due to the decreasing of temperature. He was here to stay for a while and he would surely win her over. He owed it to himself.

Hermione tried to compose herself, but the safety of Ron's familiar embrace left her unable to feel less vulnerable thus she would waste her afternoon crying in his arms.

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"A kid!" Ginny laughed, smiling at Harry.

"It's funny. They can be best friends and stuff, that is if the Malfoy genes don't kick in." Harry retorted.

"But that's the thing," she stated as they walked on Diagon Alley, shopping. "He doesn't want to be involved one second, the next he wants to marry her."

"Maybe if I kill him he'll leave us alone," he joked but his humor just earned him a slap on the arm. "So when's her next appointment?"

"I think it was a few weeks or something, can't remember exactly." Ginny replied before entering a shop, Harry in tow. "The thing is, I can't seem to decide whether I like Malfoy or not."

"That's an easy one, Gin. If you can't make up your mind there I don't know how you'll be able to raise a child."

"Harry, be serious for a moment. Ron said he was going over to see her. He wants to _win _her back. He still wants to be with her. For some odd reason, he has this idea of a happy family painted in his head and now that quidditch is over he'll be around and able to comfort her. I know he's my brother and all and I should be supportive, but it doesn't seem right. I don't like it."

Harry smiled genuinely before saying, "Calm down, love, it's none of your business. Be happy Ron's going after her—maybe he'll undo all the Malfoy in the kid."

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As he made his way throughout the streets, kicking snow around with heavy feet an idea slowly formed in his head. With a pop he arrived at a large mansion with green décor. His heart was aching but he knew he had to make this decision, it was the only way Hermione would be happy. It was the only way around this predicament.

He knocked on the door and waited until a small house elf greeted him. "Is Pansy in?"

The elf nodded and led him inside. He walked a decent distance before the grand doors of the study approached and he was brought inside. Pansy was on a sofa, staring intently at the fire. It seemed unlike her to be so quiet, but as soon as she caught sight of him she sprang up and ran towards him, embracing him with happiness.

"I knew you would come!" she smiled before guiding him to the sofa and shooing the house elf away.

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A/N: I know! Short. :( But it's here.


	10. Couches and Sofas

Chapter Ten—Couches and Sofas

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! The story hit 100 and it made me so happy, thanks to everyone who takes the time to read, review, or both. :)

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"Why'd you come here, tonight?" Pansy asked, resting her head in her hand. The green of the couch matched her attire splendidly. Draco rose his eyebrows in frustration.

"I came because I wanted to take you up on your offer, if it still stands." He tried to be calm and charismatic—to use some of his inherited charm to win her over.

"It will always stand, unless you marry that mudblood, of course." She snarled slightly before getting off the sofa and turning to the fireplace in a huff, staring down at the flames with distaste. "I thought you loved her."

Draco exhaled slightly and avoided her statement with taste, "Currently, I don't plan on marrying her and that is why I came here."

"So you want to marry me?"

"Yes," He spat before walking over to her and gazing down at the fire with annoyance.

"What makes you think I'll agree?" she turned to him with a smirk on her face, as if she was something worth fighting for.

"Well, I wouldn't see why you would agree. I don't understand why anyone would ever consider marrying me at this point, I've lived up to my reputation—a cold hearted, rather attractive, rich bastard. And I suppose, you'll be marrying me for all three of my charming characteristics."

"Ha, Draco, you _are _quite the charmer."

"People do tell me that often," he recalled while placing his hand beneath his chin playfully and grinning at her.

"So when is your wedding taking place?"

"I do believe _our _wedding will take place this Sunday."

"Oh, but it's Wednesday already, I'll barely be able to find a proper dress and inform my parents." She stuttered before walking over to a desk and glancing down at a calendar. Draco walked over to her and positioned himself so the desk separated them.

"Is that a no?"

"That, Draco, is a yes. I have been your friend for years. I don't plan on deserting you when your future is at stake."

"I'm glad it's settled."

"So am I, Draco, so am I."

"It is only four days. " Draco warned, before running a weary hand through his messy hair. She just nodded as a reply and then sunk into the depths of her couch. She gestured for him to come sit beside her. He reluctantly did, facing the fire with great disappointment.

"So, since we're getting married," Pansy began, running her hand up and down his thigh. "I figured we could start from where we left off back in school." Her face was inching closer and closer, her hands were going all over, and Draco just wanted to escape. Pictures of Hermione with another man, another man with his child, having to have Pansy's kids, they all overwhelmed him and he pushed her away with disgust.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled graciously, "I'm not ready just yet, but I'll see you Friday night to talk about this some more, alright?"

"Fine, Draco. I'll be waiting. Your house?"

"Yes, mine." He nodded and then said, "Goodbye," before parting tiredly. The comfort of his home was nothing compared to the comfort of a nice reality. And even as the night fell asleep, he could barely join it with terrorizing images of the days ahead haunting his conscience.

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Hermione had woken up Wednesday morning happy and cheerful, but Draco had once again avoided work. The last thoughts that they exchanged were Tuesday night when he walked out, saying he had other plans. He had yet informed her of whether or not the wedding was still on, and to her it was more than rude. So she carried on with her day, she supposed she should carry on with her life.

The night approached fast, Ron had agreed to bring her home after work. They apparated into her house and she dropped her coat on the sofa. She was taken aback when he did the same.

"Staying?"

"I wanted to, if that's alright with you."

"Sure," she mused aloud, "Want something to drink? Eat, perhaps?"

"No, I'm alright."

"Oh," she said meekly before taking a seat on the couch, he followed wearily.

"How was work?"

"Fine," she stated frankly, "Dra—Malfoy didn't come in again."

"Calling him Malfoy, are you? What is going on with you two?"

"Nothing. We aren't getting married, apparently. And I guess my baby is fatherless. I never thought life could turn so drastically in the minimal time of two weeks."

"Well, Hermione. I'm always here for you. I'm sorry for acting like you were mine. And, obviously, I am associating with you even though, I guess, you are still associating with him. It didn't feel right to just cut you out of my life like that. I'm sorry for overreacting."

"It's partially my fault. I was very irresponsible, stupid, foolish, overwhelmed and not to mention utterly confused. I should have thought this thing through. It is Malfoy, what should I have expected?"

"Something better. You do deserve better, Hermione. Don't you know that?"

"I guess, but I can't seem to find better anyway." She shrugged slightly before leaning back and glancing up at the ceiling briefly. "Do you think your mum is upset?" she questioned, facing him once more.

"Just a smidge, you know she had the idea of us together as reality. She probably never assumed you would find anyone else, since we were kind of almost in a relationship."

"Almost," she restated, tilting her head. "almost."

"How are your parents taking it?"

"They've chosen not to respond since I gave them the news. They never said if they were coming to the wedding or not. I don't even know if I'm going to the wedding or not."

"It's alright, it'll be fine. Calm down," he attempted with reluctance, placing a clammy hand on her shoulder for comfort. "It'll all make sense later, when everything has settled down."

"Yes," she started, with fiery eyes, "But when everything is settled I'll have a kid or be five months pregnant or be without a job or having to send my kid to school and buy them clothes and—_mmph."_

He cut her off with a kiss, cupping his hand around her face gently. She pulled away suddenly and shook her head. "Ron, I'll give you a chance, just give it time. Time to settle down."

He clenched his jaw and rose from the couch, stuffing his pockets with his fists. "Oh," was his simple reply before fetching his coat and going to the door. "I'll wait, you know. I will." But before she could reply to his comforting and un-Ron like words, he had disappeared with a crack, leaving her rather bemused.

It wasn't long before she had another visitor. This one appeared outside of her door and knocked with great precaution. Hermione approached with great tiredness in her steps. She pulled the door open to reveal Narcissa Malfoy.

"Hermione?" she questioned, "May I come in?"

Hermione just nodded, leading her into the apartment with confusion.

"Did something happen to Draco?" Hermione asked when they were seated on the couch.

"No, nothing of that sort, Hermione. I just needed to speak to you about Draco." She began with caution, "A few days ago he told me that he was going to marry Pansy instead of you, the next I know he chose you over a one year extension. I have heard several rumors—one that you're having his kid, another that he's leaving you for Pansy. I just need to make sure you'll stick by Draco."

"Why?" Hermione stated rather brutally.

"Why? Surely you have noticed the internal struggle Draco deals with every day. I fear that if he ends up with Pansy he will once again befriend the art of Dark Magic and become the dark, cold person he once was—similar to how his father has been lately. Please, dear, save him from this mess. I have so much faith in you."

"I-I'll try," she promised softly, feeling the tears well up in her eyes.

"Well, I actually have somewhere to be. Sorry to make this meeting so short, the life of a Malfoy is a busy one." She stood up and adjusted her robes gracefully.

"Oh," and once again before she could reply, Mrs. Malfoy disappeared with a crack and Hermione headed to her bedroom, ready to cry herself to sleep. When she fell back onto the pillow and felt her body relax, there was a sullen mood that progressively caused tension in the room, though no one else was there. But sleep could not come, not when she had promised to save him. _Not when someone had faith in her._


	11. Betrayal of the Fittest

Chapter Eleven—Betrayal of the Fittest

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: Alright, so I really needed to put the day on top of the paragraphs because I was getting confused and not sticking to the timeline I set. They're just there for clarification and are completely ignorable. I hope you enjoy the chapter. :)

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_Thursday (December seventeenth)_

Although having a million things on one's mind does suffice for a day well spent, some people wish to use their time wisely and prove not to lose any moments on sleep—or so Draco wished to believe. If indulging in moon gazing and late night snacks were to become hobbies he would have to convince himself that his lack of sleep was a search for a more fulfilling life, not the immense guilt he felt for leaving Hermione and not telling her. He was at work, he had decided that he could no longer neglect his job, and the paperwork had just begun to build up. The pile to his left reached his earlobe, the one on his left was separated into two stacks of equal size. But they kept growing and growing and the rate in which he completed them did not match the rate in which they were arriving, his lack of sleep last night seemed to be wounding him.

There was a collection of five unsteady knocks on his door. When he did not reply and just sighed with aggravation, it flew open. Hermione was biting her lip as her eyes searched his face for some sort of evidence. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, strands dangling in front of her eyes.

"Do you see this?" she hissed, waving an illegible form in the air. "_This _is the unreadable, completely incorrect form _you _filled out today. When I finally figured out to whom it was addressed, it was the wrong recipient, which prompted me to come and pay you this visit. What happened?" she seemed to soften greatly as she asked the last question.

"I don't know!" he countered, rubbing a flustered face in his hands.

"You need to know, Malfoy—"

"Malfoy? I'm Malfoy, now?"

"What else can you be?" she spat, throwing the form on his desk. He flinched slightly as it landed and she examined the circles beneath his eyes, "You didn't sleep last night."

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Well, neither did I, and I am perfectly capable of doing this work therefore there is no satisfactory reason why you aren't doing your job properly."

"Jeez, it's too early for you." He groaned, standing up and grabbing his coat. "I'm going for a walk."

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway. It is _lunchtime._" She spat as he passed. "Do not walk away from me!"

He looked back at her and shook his head in disgust. Ron appeared from a conversation, carrying food with him. He began to approach Hermione, but she was still walking after Draco. "We need to talk about that form."

"No!" he shouted as he turned around, "The form isn't what we need to talk about. The form is just a representation of the failure of our relationship; a symbolic mess. It's illegible, I'm illegible. You yell about the form: you're actually yelling about us."

"Do not misinterpret my words. I am speaking to you strictly about work matters and work matters alone. You have no right to assume—" but Hermione could not finish her sentence, for a sudden wave of heat swept over her body and she collapsed in a heap on the ground.

Both Ron and Draco rushed towards her, Ron abandoning his food at a counter. But they simultaneously bumped heads, both backing away from the unconscious Hermione. Ron turned to Draco angrily, "Go, you were going, weren't you?"

"I do believe that the business of Hermione is my business."

"Not right now it isn't. Leave, Malfoy." Ron spat and Draco obeyed. A crowd had developed around the pair, but Ron hastily removed her from the mess and brought her back to her house. On the couch he laid her with precaution, making sure to feel her forehead in the process. He owled Ginny with worry. Her reply came momentarily: she was on her way.

"There's nothing wrong with her, Ron. She'll wake up in a bit. It seems to be an abundance of stress that brought this on. She just fainted, nothing too serious. Just tell her to take some time off from work when she wakes up and tell her _I _said to. Coming from you it means little to nothing—just because of your lack of medical experience, and all." Ginny stated, heading towards the door.

Ron shrugged and took a sideways glance at Hermione's limp body on the sofa, "Okay, then. I'll see you later?"

"Yes," Ginny grinned before leaving, muttering something about business to tend to. About twenty minutes passed before company arrived; company Ron wished not to entertain.

"Let me inside." He protested from behind the wooden door, banging on the frame without hesitance. The only significant thought on his mind being the baby. There were several gashes from his fist, none of which he intended to repair. Flecks of blood began to appear on his knuckles from the force he was exerting.

"No way in hell, Malfoy. She's not even awake so it doesn't matter!" Ron yelled across the door, glancing out the peephole and staggering back to check if Hermione was still sleeping.

Draco shook his head and began banging the door with his knee, trying to wake Hermione so she would protest Ron's decision to keep him out but apparently she was still sleeping. He walked away, defeated, and sure of one thing: that on Sunday he would be marrying Pansy.

"Who was that?" Hermione murmured from the couch, sitting up in the process.

"No one important. Just go back to sleep, you've got to get your rest." Fatherly, brotherly. Two things his tone could easily relate to. Hermione tried to ignore the sudden realization that his protection and over 

possessiveness towards her could be comparable to that of a father or older brother. It would only cause Ron's chances with her to slim even further.

"No, I want to get up," she smiling, standing up and gracefully catching her balance on the arm of the couch.

"Ginny said that you should take some time off from work."

"I don't—"

Ron interrupted her, "You are taking some time off—you need it." It seemed to be more an order than a suggestion and once more the relationship between her and her father seemed to be similar to the one developing between her and Ron. She just shook her head as he nodded repeatedly.

"Alright." She smiled, "I'll owl my boss and make sure everything is set. But no more than one day, Ron. Do you hear me?"

"Yeah, I guess." He grinned, pulling her into a bear-like hug.

_Friday (December eighteenth)_

"It's so nice of you to make me dinner, Ron," said Hermione. They were sitting at her table with a homemade meal—a Ron-made meal. Hermione did take some time off from work; one day. Ron insisted that she take more but there was no way she would. There were too many forms and stacks of paperwork to neglect. She felt rather emotionless when it came to the subject of work. How she ended up in a dead end job such as this one always struck her the wrong way. She had potential, she knew she did. But for some reason a barrier existed—preventing her from leaving. She suspected that barrier to have blonde hair and pale skin.

"No problem, Hermione. It was my pleasure."

"Thanks!" she repeated, a little _too _enthusiastically. But he just shrugged before continuing.

"I thought it would help relieve the stress with Malfoy and all. He has some nerve, he does. Thinking he can just come on over and—" But Ron caught himself, wincing slightly at his mess up. He hadn't exactly intended to inform Hermione that she had a visitor yesterday. Actually, it was going to be a secret. He would do anything to prove that Draco was indeed a bad man.

"Draco came here?" she questioned, getting out of her chair, letting it fall back against the pastel green wall, probably leaving some sort of mark.

"Well, maybe." He choked out, standing up to face her.

"Did you let him in?"

"No! Why would I do that?" he shouted, attempting to prevent Hermione from believing he was the bad guy.

"I don't know, maybe because I'm carrying his baby." She screamed, heading towards the door. The fact that Draco had displayed some kind of awareness of his responsibilities made her so happy. He had 

cared enough to see if she was alright, he recognized what he needed to do and did it. It was horrible of Ron to prevent Draco from coming in, she decided, and seeing Draco would have helped her understand this mess. She had to quit pretending she hated him one day and then loved him the next. She had to go to him and tell him how she felt and what she wanted: to be with him.

So she abandoned Ron without mercy and apparated to the front of Draco's home. Hermione rang the doorbell with a new found enthusiasm and waited for it to be answered. A lopsided house elf greeted her and ushered her inside. She was brought to the cozy study. But as she approached the room, she could hear the voices from inside. At first they were muffled but she could easily distinguish which was Draco's. Her heart rose in her throat, threatening her with tears. She was ready to turn around and go home—to where she was safe, but the thought of seeing Draco just once more seemed to spread a warm feeling about her body.

She inched closer to the door and now heard female voices, two separate ones. A pang of jealousy raced through her system, but once again she convinced herself that backing away would only make the situation worse and her chance at admitting to Draco what she felt impossible.

"We have your dress, Pansy. And all of the wedding invitations have been repaired." Mrs. Malfoy stated, closing what sounded like a book. "So we'll see you Sunday at the church." Hermione began to backtrack, but not fast enough.

Three people emerged from the room, all shocked to see Hermione outside; each of who wore a face of distress. Hermione was the first to break the silence, not fearing the prominence of emotions in her voice.

"I see you've moved on fast." She spat, backing away from Draco, Pansy and Mrs. Malfoy. "You must really hate me. After all of this, I came here and this is what I find. Did you plan on telling me?"

"Hermione, come on." Draco started, but she had turned to leave. "Don't just run away."

"How can I not, Draco? Everything you've done has completely ruined what I came here to say."

"What? What did you want to say?" he pleaded with her.

She shook her head before repeating herself, "You must really hate me." He saw semi-circles of tears well up in her eyes, and it took all his strength to not reach up and wipe them away. Ignoring Pansy and his mother, he stepped forward. Taking both her hands in his he began to breathe heavily. In and out. In and out. Each time her familiar smell wafted through his nostrils and to his brain. When she pulled away from his grasp he was thrust back into reality and forced to answer her incorrect statement.

"I don't hate you." He protested as she turned to leave. "Don't go!" But it was too late—she had disappeared and Draco was too much of a coward to follow. He knew that if he looked hard enough she would be easy to find. Instead, he looked down at Pansy, her arm gripping his, she smiled sweetly at him before apparating away.

"So son," his mother started in a sullen tone, "It is in this moment that I decided whether to stand by your choices or to betray you with my words and leave you be."

"And what do you choose, Mother?"

"It is just because I am your mother that I will stand by you, not because I support your decisions. But I will tell you one thing: you've hurt Hermione, dear, I can see it in her eyes and the fact that you cannot worries me greatly."


	12. The Day Before

Chapter Twelve—The Day Before

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

- -- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

_Saturday (December nineteenth)_

Hermione had spent all night crying, and her morning had followed that sorrowful example. Somewhere in her mind, what Draco had done hurt her more than she had preconceived it to. It was not until Ginny showed up, unannounced, that the crying had sufficed.

Ginny showed up to Hermione's house both frustrated and exhausted.

"Hermione!" she reprimanded, "You have to stop this weeping. It's awfully depressing."

"He's leaving me for Pansy!" she cried indignantly. "He wasn't even planning on telling me! The wedding is tomorrow and he wasn't even going to tell me! They're lucky the ceremony was going to be small—that way I can, OH God." She yelped, throwing herself off the couch. In her rumbled sweatpants, untidy hair and crooked zip-up sweater, she began to pace. "I've got to tell your family. I've got to tell my parents." Barely audible, due to the muffling of the pillow currently stranded and clenched on her face, she began an angry rant.

Ginny, being the friend she was and a person not too fond of Hermione's logical rants, took it upon herself to interrupt. She carefully picked her words. "Don't worry, dear." Ginny tried, placing a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder before pulling her up from the suffocating couch and towards the door. "I'll tell my family."

"That just leaves mine," she huffed. "Do you think I should get changed?"

Ginny did a one over, shrugged and then smiled sweetly, "Yes, Hermione. You look like a wreck."

"Thanks."

- - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - -- - - -- -

Draco was pacing. Back and forth. To and from. There to here. Here to there. There and back. Every single emotion he had ever felt, which was a mere few, had decided to drop in at this exact moment. He was in the process, well the people in the other room were in the process, of discussing the wedding tomorrow and of having such a smashing time tonight. He had escaped the room, complaining of a sudden need to use the bathroom. But his silence and escape lasted for a short period of time.

A subtle knock on the door granted the intruder immediate access to him. His best man stood, arms crossed and brow furrowed, with a bottle of alcohol and two cups. He set them down on the table and gestured towards Draco with the bottle. Draco shook his head broadly, "No."

"Come on, man."

"No, Blaise. It's not going to happen. I've got far too much to think about. Save the drinks for later; for tonight."

"Good thing there's a tonight or I'd have to quit this whole wedding thing. I hope you don't mind my speech. I took out all the Hermione's and put in Pansy's."

"Eh, it's fine." Draco dismissed, playing with a piece of paper he had just found on a nearby desk.

"So what's bothering you, mate?"

"I just feel guilty; that's all."

"Well, I've never heard of a Malfoy feeling guilty before, but because you are a Malfoy, it is safe to assume the felling will pass soon."

"Let's hope so." Draco doubted, "But what's so great about Hermione, anyway? I'm a fool to think she's anything."

"Eh, she seemed nice enough during our Hogwarts days; slugclub and everything. But she's a mudblood, mate. Don't let it bother you."

Draco just shrugged and then followed Blaise out of the room and back towards his pureblood friends.

-- - -- - -- - -- - -- - --

Anxiety, nervousness, and pressure were crashing down on her at the same, exact moment, causing her to knock on the front door of her parents' house rapidly. They opened it soon enough, relaxing Hermione slightly. "Come in, dear." Her mother smiled genuinely. Hermione followed her inside, taking a seat at their kitchen table. Her father joined them soon. Her hands were clasped with anticipation. They didn't stay that way for long. Out of pure habit, she fidgeted like mental. Telling them this would surely push her over the edge. Glancing at her father first, she began.

"The wedding is off." There, it was out. Completely and utterly _out. _But the looks on her parents' faces didn't convince her mind that she had actually told them.

Her father was the first to say something, "What?"

"Draco and I broke up."

"Oh, really?" her mother snapped, "Isn't that interesting." Her hair was up today; her face was more pointed than ever. Hermione considered the possibility that her parents had been fighting already that day, due to the fact her father was sitting at the table with nothing in his hands and nothing in front of him—an empty occupation, perhaps? Such as yelling, shouting and being accused. Silently, Hermione attempted to find the argument they were hiding behind her problem.

"You don't have to say it like that."

"Listen, dear." Her father started, but was harshly cut off by her mother.

"How about your guests? Did you notify them?"

"I told you before—it was a small ceremony. Everyone has been told."

"And why were we told this late?" Her voice both accused and faulted.

"I just found out yesterday," she shouted, standing up from the table. This was too much to bear, too much to deal with. Yet her mother wouldn't back down, she knew her too well.

"I can't believe you, Hermione." Her mother yelled. Abruptly standing from the table, her chair slamming against the wall, she walked up to Hermione, placing a sympathetic hand on Hermione's forearm. Hermione immediately shook her off and backed away. She searched her mother's eyes for the next patronizing question. "What happened?"

"We decided that it wasn't going to…work. I thought, up to yesterday, that we were definitely getting married. There were certain reasons that convinced me we would not break up," she started, a great attempt to choose her words delicate gone wrong, but her father interrupted.

"Honey, you owe us no explanation. As long as you're happy." He smiled, but then gave her a stern glare, "And as long as you don't go back to that redhead."

"About that—"

"She does owe us an explanation!" her mother persisted, turning to her aggravated husband.

"About that? I prefer this Draco boy to Ron any day. He didn't treat you right, Her—"

"Ron is not the issue at hand." Her mother snapped, "I want to know what happened with Draco."

"And I want to know what the hell is going on with her and Ron. Did you cheat on Draco?"

"I'd prefer to hear about _why _they broke up. I didn't really mind the Ron fellow, anyway."

"Are you delusional?"

"No!" her mother shouted. Their little argument had progressed into quite the verbal battle, Hermione standing helplessly against the wall. "Sometimes I wonder why I married you. Obviously, you do not care enough about our daughter to—"

"Never say I do not care about our daughter. And do not bring the topic of another fight, another disagreement, into the current one. You know for a fact what you're doing, so stop it right now," her father sneered, crossing his arms broadly. He turned to Hermione and began, "Simple questions. I just want some sort of answer."

"Alright," she sighed, sitting back down at the table.

"There's no wedding, right?"

"Right."

"Are you with Ron?"

"Not quite. Potentially. He agreed to wait…Until when everything was _settled _down."

Her father opened his mouth to scold her, but Mrs. Granger cut in like a sharp, butcher's knife, "Dear, it's alright if you go back to him. At least you knew him for more than two weeks," The sweet, caring tone of her mother's voice immediately confused Hermione. At first she believed her mother was being 

sympathetic, but then came to a sudden realization that Mrs. Granger did not support her potential marriage to Draco and the fact that they broke up made her _happy._

"So, Hermione, dear," her mother smiled tenderly, inhaling deeply, "Does this mean Draco's completely out of your life—you know, it isn't good to keep people around that hurt you."

Hermione pondered at what would be the correct answer as the tips of her fingers rubbed her stomach area subconsciously. Her thoughts wandered from the baby to telling her mother the whole and complete truth. "Not exactly."

And then, as if her mother's eyes were able to see right into her soul, a wave of recognition washed over Misses Granger's features. "You-You're pregnant."

A rigid knot of pressure that had been tightening in Hermione's stomach instantly snapped, causing her to jump out of the chair and tend to her tears.

"So you are?" her mother drawled in an elongated, whispering voice. Her tone was both final and questioning, leaving Hermione no room to answer properly. "Is this child Ronald's?"

Hermione chose not to answer, just to stare disapprovingly at her mother. In her whole lifetime, Hermione had done nothing rebellious, wrong, horrible or immoral. The thought of cheating, lying, betraying and hurting both angered her and turned her off. Never had she cheated and never would she. _And _she was more than certain that all her life she had made it perfectly clear, through both actions and words, that she would never consider such an act of indecency, infidelity and disloyalty.

"Is it Draco's?" her mother prompted. Her attempts to remove an answer from Hermione's sealed mouth were dwindling to little pleas in Hermione's mind. There was no space to easily reflect her frustration with her mother. She never considered herself to be thought of so low and dirty as that of a cheater—by her own mother, at that. Glad enough, she accepted the words of her father who seemed to come to her rescue more often than not lately.

"Leave her alone, dear."

"I know," Mrs. Granger said sullenly, "I don't believe Hermione would ever cheat. But with the sudden, rash actions of the past two weeks I would find it highly unsurprising."

There was a solitary moment of silence in which Hermione chose, what she considered to be, the better of two self-determined choices. "Draco is the father. I'm not a cheater."

Her father sat, a disappointed sigh escaping his lips. Her mother was the first to speak, "And instead of regarding the life of the baby, your reputation, and your future as a mother you wish to keep your pride and not marry this man. You have a responsibility now—a child to take care of. You aren't being responsible; not at all."

"Well, maybe life is more complicated than what you should do and what you shouldn't do. Maybe, just maybe, not everyone and everything is willing to compromise in order to help you be _responsible._" Hermione snapped, eyeing her mother with distaste before turning for the door. As she opened it to leave she heard one last call from her mother.

"And this, my dear," her mother smiled, "is why you practice celibacy."

- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

A/N: Short, but it had to end there. :)


	13. Fathers and Weddings Part One

Chapter Thirteen—Fathers and Weddings Part I

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. Sorry that I never get around to replying individually, but I want you all to know how much your reviews are appreciated. You have no idea, (well some of you probably do, if you write and post), how great it feels to know people are reading your story! :) Enjoy.

"She stands, with a well intentioned man.

But she can't relax, with his hand on the small of her back.

And as the flashbulbs burst she holds a smile like someone would hold a crying child. Soon everybody will ask what became of you.

'Cause your heart was dying fast and you didn't know what to do…

But you said your vows and you closed the door on so many men that could have loved you more…

The whispers that it won't last roll up and down the pew."

(Death Cab/ "Cath…")

- -- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

_Sunday (THE WEDDING!) (a/n: yeah, the capitals were necessary)_

"No booze?" Blaise whined as his tall, lanky frame leaned against a floor length mirror. Draco stood on the opposite end of the room adjusting his dress robes that elegantly resembled a tuxedo.

While politely declining his best man's constant protesting, Draco scowled at him, "You know what I said! We drank enough last night. My head is still pounding."

"Fine," he snapped, taken aback by Draco's aggressive tone, "Sorry for wanting to have a little fun. Cold feet?"

"More like cold everything." He barked defensively, throwing on the jacket to his outfit. "How much longer?"

"Twenty or so." He paused rather dramatically before wandering over to Draco, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and speaking in a gentle tone, "still feeling guilty?"

Draco shook his hand off and stalked away, "Malfoys do not feel _guilt. _It's more of a repressed anger bubbling up inside of me. I'm livid, can't you see? So angry that she can do this to me!"

Blaise attempted to figure out who _she _was, but settled on asking, "Pansy? Your Mum?"

"No." Draco hissed, "_Her."_

"Oh. _Her._"

"Yeah. Took you long enough."

"So you're mad at Hermi—"

"_Her._"

"So you're mad at her, why exactly?"

"Because she acts so confident and like she knows everything."

"Surely that isn't the issue. You've been mad at her because of that for _years._"

"So?" Draco protested, "Some grudges never fade."

"Ha. Mate, you've got issues. Just because she beat you in school is not a good enough reason to be thinking about her on your wedding day. She was your fiancée two days ago, you know?"

"Yes. I know, you idiot."

"You're getting bitterer by the moment. I liked you better when _her_ was around."

"You," Draco shook his head, "Are a dunce. You do realize you used her instead of she, don't you?"

"I thought she was _her._"

"Not if it isn't correct grammar. Blaise, just stop. I've made my decision. Pansy and I will—"

"Have pug-faced children, live in a big house, fight like mad, have bad sex—"

"Damnit."

"Even I would take Hermio—_her _over Pansy. You do know how bad she is in bed, right?" Draco nodded with a clenched jaw, "Even though _she _has bushy hair and larger-than-normal teeth, she's still better than Pansy. No offense to your bride, or anything, but as your best man I feel obligated to point that out."

"Well pointed."

"Fifteen minutes, mate."

- -- - -- - -- - -- -

"Hermione, you are not going to do this!" Ginny squealed happily, beaming. "You've never done anything like this—well, come to think of it, getting engaged to Draco was pretty spontaneous."

"Thanks, Gin."

"When does the wedding start?" she asked, clearing the plates off of the table. She and Hermione were at her kitchen table, talking about Hermione's plan.

"Uh," she shrugged while looking at the clock, "In ten minutes!"

"We have to go, _now."_ Ginny barked, grabbing Hermione's coat and tossing it to her.

"Why do I need my coat?"

"Just in case. You said you can't apparate near the church. You have to apparate close to it."

"I actually believe it's a cathedral or something."

"You sure know a lot about what was your wedding," said Ginny, sarcastically. With a twist and pull of their bodies, they stood across the street from a looming, tall church/cathedral. "So what's your plan?"

"Secret." She mumbled as she crossed the road and placed a steady hand on the door handle. "Are you coming in?"

"Yes," she scoffed, "I'm not missing this. I just wish I had a camera or something."

"Trust me, I'll just retell the story later. Plus, he may just ignore me."

"Yeah, but—do you hear talking?" Ginny whispered, pressing her ear against the cool, wooden door. "I think the vows have started. You better go now."

Hermione smiled sourly, arched her eyebrows and turned to Ginny, "I don' know about—"

But before she could protest, Ginny had opened the booming doors and shoved Hermione inside. The rustle from the entrance had stopped the vows and caused the whole, small crowd to glue their eyes to Hermione. There were a few subtle gasps, but Draco hadn't turned around yet. It wasn't until there was a small cough—Hermione assuming it was Narcissa's—and he turned.

His neck craned slowly, dramatically before his eyes darted through her like the tongue of a snake. Piercing every spot they swept, his eyes closed momentarily. Pansy stomped her foot in annoyance and whined creepily. Draco let out a low groan, trying not to appear frustrated and completely avoiding Hermione's eyes.

She was dressed in jeans and a coat, her hair was a mess. But he looked stunning. His hair was combed back, small strands dangling in front of his eyes. His hands had untangled themselves from Pansy's and were now dangling at his side. Pansy did look rather stunning, if one avoided noticing her face. She was slender and drawn out, the long-sleeved dress draping her figure nicely. But Draco had forged the true intent of his attention to his audience. The sole thing his mind was concentrating on was _her. Her _face was slightly flushed—maybe she was crying or it was from the cold—and her face looked prettier than ever. He felt no concern for her attire, just the breaking of her heart he was doing with every moment he said nothing. He wasn't defending her, he was allowing her to stand, alone, in the middle of his wedding, embarrassing herself in front of people of high standings in society and looking completely disheveled.

She, on the other hand, had enough. Hermione ran, from the small square of tile her feet had been stranded in to the altar. Before she could obtain proper control of her impulses, she had Draco's hands in hers and was staring up at him. Feet arcing, toes stretching, she stood at her tallest and planted the most sincere and motivated kisses of her life on his lips.

She felt his head slowly pull away, but in an act of spontaneity, she grabbed his hair with her hand and prevented his face from moving any further away. Lips still locked, she felt his hand work its way around her waist, the other knotting her hair. Trickling like raindrops, gasps and gossip littered the aisles.

With the sudden thirst for air, Hermione pulled back and inhaled deeply. She noticed the murmurs and the scowl dancing comfortably across Pansy's face. As soon as Hermione was about to justify her actions to a very enraged Pansy, she was slapped across the face, quite deservingly, she determined. But the bride to be was red in the face and staring at Hermione, still angry.

In retaliation—because she wouldn't feel right not defending herself—Hermione, in one swift movement, extended her arms, placed her hands on Pansy's shoulders, respectively, and shoved her with all her might. Clattering back against the stone floor, her jewelry screeching on the tile, Pansy whimpered slightly before letting out a high-pitched squeal of "Draco!"

But he was too preoccupied to answer. He was staring incredulously at Hermione. He traced the contours of her face with his fingertips, letting his hand fall limply to his side after brushing his thumb across her lips. Closing her eyes and exhaling gradually, she spun on her feet and faced the wide-eyed, anticipation-filled audience.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she smiled lightly, waved awkwardly and shrugged, "Sorry for the interruption."

She heard a couple of comments, whispered scattered across the group, (mostly from Pansy's parents, grandparents and siblings) of "Harry Potter's friend," "that Muggle-born," "Did Draco cheat?" and "I like her jacket."

"Yes," Draco drawled, "she is quite sorry for the interruption. But I, being the one who is trying to get married, would love to know the reason for this disruption."

She stared at him in disbelief. At first she thought her heart had stopped, but came to a sudden realization that it was pounding out of her chest. She recalled Ginny's presence, seeing her shift in the corner of her eye. Feeling suddenly motivated by her friend's support, she started to speak but an angry Lucius stood up and bellowed, "You have no right to come here, you filthy mudblood."

"Father, what have I said about that _word?_" Draco snapped, sighing in the process.

"You will tell me nothing of my vocabulary. It is the way the world works. She must get used to the idea that she is no more welcome here than her blood-traitor of a friend and the boy-who-lived."

"If they are friends of hers, then they are welcome."

"Draco," she whispered with appreciation, looking right into his eyes. But she could find nothing for her search was called short and redirected to the barking of Lucius.

"Son, there is a wedding going on here. You must continue."

It was as if relief passed over Draco's features momentarily, "No." It was short, blunt, frank and to the point. It also seemed to anger his father.

"I am warning you now."

"Warning me?" he scoffed, "Go ahead, and warn me."

"I've already given you a chance. A year, I gave you, just so you wouldn't have her as a wife. Then I find out you're marrying Pansy, which came as both a relief and a surprise. So here we are," he sneered, walking up to the altar to face his son whose hand Hermione had latched onto for security.

"You will get married today or there is no inheritance. None at all."

Draco inwardly shuttered. As much as he could live on his own money, the idea of completely forfeiting his attachment to the reputation of the Malfoy name was tempting him.

There was a tug on his arm and he glanced down at Hermione. She muttered something, a fractured whisper into his shoulder, "Think about the baby."

"What?" his father snapped repulsively, "Did she just say something about a baby?"

Another flurry of gasps echoed across the room. Draco knew how horrible it was to have kids before you were married in this society. He needed to tell Hermione to shut up, politely of course.

"She's lying. There is no child."

"Just a ploy, you little mudblood, to twist your way into marrying my son. He would never sleep with filth like you, don't get your hopes up." He drawled and then turned to his son, "Would you like to tell me why, exactly, there is the potential for a baby if you practiced abstinence?"

"I—"

"Celibacy, Draco. What happened to out word? Did its significance diminish in your ears? Did you sleep with this scum, this dirt?"

"Do not call her that." He bellowed.

"My preposition stands: get married today or no place in the Malfoy will."

"You sure are fond of ultimatums, Father."

"Just answer the question, Draco. We haven't all day."

A/N: So there are about two more chapters after this one. Just thought I'd let everyone know. :) Thanks for reading.


	14. Fathers and Weddings Part Two

Chapter Fourteen—Fathers and Weddings Part II

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: I'm not mean. I would never do something as _horrible _as making Draco choose Pansy over Hermione. Never. :)

- -- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

_Sunday (The Wedding Part II)_

"_My preposition stands: get married today or no place in the Malfoy will."_

"_You sure are fond of ultimatums, Father."_

"_Just answer the question, Draco. We haven't all day."_

"You want me to answer a question like that on the spot? What if my answer is a momentary lapse of reason and whichever option I choose is the worst for me? You, as my father, will do nothing?"

"You are man, son. Be responsible. Make a choice now or nothing."

Draco glanced over at Pansy, her eyes were watering. There was a slight pain in his chest—definitely not _guilt_—that he assumed was pity. He was ruining her wedding day. He was ruining the day she must have imagined as a child. He knew Pansy and he knew that she had always imagined him as the groom. But Hermione was having his kid.

Pity or responsibility?

Reputation or duty?

His father's choice or his mother's?

His inheritance or—Draco's mind light up much like a florescent light bulb. His father was sure to hate him after this. "I know what I choose, Father. I will get married today," he paused nodding at Hermione, whose eyes had begun to water, and then looking at a triumphant Pansy, "But to Hermione."

Lucius began to speak but Draco cut him off, "Speaking is not necessary. You said get married today and that is _exactly _what I am doing. Hermione, dear, please step up here," he took her hand and led her to where Pansy was standing, slightly nudging Pansy out of the way, "Now, continue." He commanded to the wizard holding the book. The man looked rather startled but just settled on a weak shrug.

"We are gathered here today…" the nuptials went on without a hitch. A silent Lucius sat down next to his wife. And after Hermione and Draco kissed, Hermione heard a victory yelp come from Ginny. Pleased with his win, Draco watched the Parkinsons clear out of 

the church, leaving his family. They stared at him. He couldn't miss the smile on his mother's face. It had to be bigger than his and Hermione's combined.

"Thank the Lord! I was beginning to think you'd actually marry Pansy." Narcissa smiled, bringing them out of the church. Lucius began to stalk off so she followed with a sigh.

Leaving Hermione and Draco alone, Hermione spoke, "Sorry for my attire," she giggled, "I didn't plan on getting married today." He grabbed her hand and spun her around, admiring her outfit in the process. Wrapping his arm around her waist, they walked in the snow.

"Neither did I." he smirked, "where did Weasel go?"

"She said she had to go meet Harry somewhere, but I believe she's gone to tell her family what happened today."

"You better watch out then, your boyfriend might pop out of nowhere and—"

Crack! Ron did, indeed, pop out of nowhere and right in front of them. "You married him!" he shouted.

"Yes. She did. Suck it up." Draco shuttered before scrunching up his face, "Do you need something?"

"An explanation would be nice. You called off your wedding and now you're married. We didn't even get to see it."

Hermione appeared confused, "One minute you're kissing me, the next you _want _to see me get married. Weird."

Ron bit down on his lip before pondering his next words carefully, "Hermione, you betrayed us all. I'm sure my family feels the same way."

"Have you spoken with your family about the issue?"

"Not really, no. Ginny just told us, about five minutes ago."

"Ron, you know that I needed to do this. I'm having a baby."

"I know. I just feel hurt," he shouted, "Hurt that you would take such a big step without me—_us _there. And without my, I mean, our permission."

"I need no one's permission to get married. No one's permission is necessary, except perhaps my father—oh, not again. I've seriously got to go over there _again. _You're coming, Draco."

Draco coughed with disgust, "Me? Your parents? Are you mental?"

"Not quite. But I'm not going alone. They're ready to attack me because I didn't _practice celibacy._" She whined, glancing at Ron.

"I can't deal with you right now," Ron spat suddenly and left with a crack. Hermione just shook her head in his wake.

"I can't believe him."

"I can. Who would blame him? He lost the love of his life to _me._"

"That's nice and all, but we have to go see my parents."

"Sure, but not after we have some fun. It is our wedding night, after all." He smiled and bent down, latching onto her lips with his own. Running his fingers through her hair and gasping for breath, he was soon red in the face. The cold was bitter and his hands were hurting. Offering her the warmth of himself, they apparated to his home.

- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

_Wednesday (December 23)_

"Oh," Draco stuttered. Hermione backed away from him slightly, the pattern of her breath on his lips. "So how do you plan on telling them you've been married for three days?"

"Like this," she smiled playfully, knocked on the door and turned to him. Before he could react properly, she was kissing him sincerely. He twisted his arms around her waist as hers rested on his shoulders, her clothed skin rubbing against his neck. He could vaguely hear the door open, but he was too preoccupied. Apparently, Hermione had too heard the door and chose that moment to pull away. Pouting subconsciously, Draco groaned in annoyance.

She nudged him hard in the ribs and waggled her eyes towards the door. He spun to see her mother. She looked aggravated already. Her eyes were practically as red as her face—with rage, of course. Hermione smiled brightly and pushed herself in the house, dragging a reluctant Draco along with her hand as it powerfully gripped his wrist.

"Is Dad home?"

"Yes, he just got back from work. He's in the living room." Her mother seethed, "Is there an explanation to why I find you on my doorstep with him?"

"All answers will come in due time, Mum. But I've got to find Dad. I want to tell you two together."

Soon, they were seated on the sofas. Draco and Hermione, her parents on the other. "Hello, Hermione, Draco." Her father nodded, "I suppose you have some sort of news."

"Yes. Actually. I know you aren't going to like it. But after I tell you the story, I know you'll understand." She hesitated, patting Draco's knee and then starting, "Draco and I got married Sunday…" she started and then proceeded to retell the story, carefully watching her parents' expressions.

"I didn't get to give my daughter away," he whispered, clenching his jaw. "I understand the predicament. I see that the both of you have accepted your responsibilities, but I've always thought about that moment—the moment when I give her away."

"Dad," she murmured, "We've decided to do it all over. Even though we're already married, we can still have a ceremony and invite everyone that we wanted to invite originally. That way you'll be able to give me away."

"Oh," her father accepted her answer thoughtfully, "When?"

"Well, soon. The beginning of February, just because I don't want to be showing on the wedding day. Old wizarding families aren't always accepting of the idea of kids before marriage. But I guess it'll be fine."

Her mother laughed, "Fine? You can sit here and call this fine? Hermione, dear, seriously, can you tell me you are considering this _fine? _This is horrible; a complete mess. I don't know how you can be so calm."

"Because, Mum, I've accepted this is the way life is going to be," she motioned towards Draco, "On Christmas we're going over to the Weasely's. You two are invited. I'll arrange magical transportation; you'll just have to tell me tomorrow. We have to go now, just make sure you get in touch."

"Alright," her father smiled reluctantly when the phone rang. He hurried into the other room to get it, leaving the couple with Mrs. Granger.

"Going so soon?" she snarled.

"Yes, we've got to be on our way."

She grinned maliciously, attempting to seem like she was aiming for a sincere conversation, "Where are you two off to?"

Hermione laughed genuinely, and confidently proclaimed in a steady, amused and excited voice, "We're going to have sex."

Draco perked up dramatically and turned to Hermione's mother with a beaming face, "See you later, Mrs. Granger!"

- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

A/N: Well, there's ONE more chapter. That it. It's just basically the Christmas holiday. Some angst…mostly fluffy. Hope you all liked this one. :) I'll be updating soon.


	15. Christmas

Chapter Fifteen—Christmas

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters in the book, or anything else related to the book.

A/N: This is the _last _chapter of The Malfoy Will. I'm going to miss this story. It's been the most fun to write. Thanks to all of the readers, the reviewers, the favoriters, the alert-ers. Everyone who's read this story was the inspiration to finish it. Thanks so much. :)

- -- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

Waking up Christmas morning in Draco's house and in Draco's bed made Hermione's insides tingle. It was Christmas morning. And because of that, she hurried downstairs to the tree that she forced Draco into getting. He told her that his childhood wasn't exactly festive at this time of year. Her retort was to suck it up. She wanted a holiday; he was going to have to deal. He sat in his armchair. His hair wasn't gelled back, it fell freely. He had a robe on, a green robe, and was actually smiling. The sight of his smile was another thing that made her insides tingle.

Might as well make a list, she concluded as she rushed over to him and fell, gracefully, into his lap. "Presents?" she inquired.

"Not until after my parents' and then the Weasel's." She groaned like a greedy child. He laughed and picked her up, dropping her in the kitchen. "But it doesn't mean we can't eat. I'm not too fond of the food at my parents'. It's too…Flamboyant."

"Flamboyant? I never thought I'd see the day that Draco Malfoy used the word _flamboyant._"

"Oh, so a guy can't have a good vocabulary? I see how it is. I'll go back to when we were eleven years old and the only words I knew, in reference to you, were bushy haired, buck-toothed, know-it-all Granger. I'd rather enjoy using that every day."

Hermione snorted, "As long as I can call you an insufferable git."

"Any day, love, any day."

Before she could respond properly, the phone rang. She answered it with a quiet, "hello."

"Hi, darling, it's Dad."

"Oh, hey, Dad."

"We won't be able to come,"

"I figured, since you didn't tell me yesterday, like I had asked."

"I'm so sorry. I want to see you today, but your mother isn't exactly fond of you right about now. She told me what you said to her, not exactly respectful. But that isn't the point. I'm sorry we won't be coming."

"It's fine, Dad, really. Just tell Mum I said Happy Christmas."

"Alright, Love."

"Bye,"

"Happy Christmas."

"You too."

She hung up the phone with a sigh and turned to face Draco. "Your father?"

"Yes." She pouted her lips in defeat. "He's not coming,"

Draco embraced her, "What did I tell you? Don't expect them to. What you said to your mother, though very funny, was a little inappropriate. I'm sure being around you right now might trigger the wrong mental image."

"I highly doubt that's the reason. She just doesn't want to be the one that gives in."

"Well who cares what your mother thinks? Not me." He bent down and kissed her softly, "How long until we leave?"

"Uh, I don't know. A half an hour or so. Why?"

"I think you know why." He chuckled, pushing her into the living room and onto the couch. Kissing her fiercely and passionate, he paused only to tell her one thing, "I love you."

- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

"Draco, Hermione!" Mrs. Malfoy smiled as they entered the dining room. "Happy Christmas!" She hugged them both while Lucius remained seated, and just nodded. "So, I guess we're lucky to snag you for lunch. Draco tells me you two have plans at the Weasely's."

Hermione affirmed, "Yes. Around three or four. What time was it dear?"

"Three thirty, Hermione." Draco sniggered. "I wouldn't mind going at four, though."

"Me either," she beamed.

"But I definitely think we should go at three." Draco nodded, "being punctual is important. Right, Mother?"

"Very important." She smiled, glancing at the look shared between Draco and Hermione. Contrary to the hopefulness of her husband, Mrs. Malfoy found herself appreciating the happiness Hermione brought her son. It was worth all the trouble in the world to witness her son's smile. It was a rare smile, but lately she had seen it more than ever.

The meal went smoothly. Lucius continued to be withdrawn. They exchanged presents and laughs, many of which were genuine. Draco pulled Hermione out onto the property, along with his parents, for a proper tour. She met house maids, house elves, cooks and 

gardeners who were off duty due to the cold weather. Being rich like this, she concluded, would surely drive her insane.

When three o' clock rolled around, they bid their farewells, said their thanks and apparated back to their home.

- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

"Hermione! Draco!" Mrs. Weasely greeted them as they entered the Burrow. "We thought you two weren't coming. It's almost four thirty!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasely, but we got caught up at my parents.

"My name is Molly. Use it." She commanded, leading them into the house where a nice fire was lit. People were gathered around the fire talking and chatting. They were bombarded with hugs and kisses and congratulations.

"So Hermione," Ginny squealed, "When's the official wedding?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed Ron's face pale dramatically. "We're thinking February. All of you are invited, obviously."

"Good," Harry smiled. "There's no way I'm missing my chance to see my best friend get married."

"Me either," Ginny added, rubbing Harry's knee affectionately.

"I'm going to be an uncle and a father, how exciting is this?" Harry snorted.

"Uncle?" Draco sneered playfully, "There's no Potter in my baby's blood."

Hermione shook her head, "Doesn't matter. He's still an uncle."

"So are you, Draco." Harry amended, "But don't worry, the kid'll have to say 'Uncle Malfoy'."

Draco grumbled while everyone laughed.

When seven o' clock rolled around and everyone was finished with their meal, Ron called Hermione over to the side. "Hermione, I'm sorry for getting so angry." He ground out through clenched teeth. Hermione safely assumed this was a forced apology from either Harry or Ginny.

"It's alright Ron."

"It is." He said, "I said I would wait and you married him. I'm betrayed and hurt. I can't believe this whole situation, but because it's the holiday season and everyone's so happy, I'm going to bite my tongue."

Hermione pondered for a brief moment before replying, "I forgive you for yelling at me and getting so upset and I'm sorry if I did hurt you. I shouldn't have led you on like that."

"You're right. You shouldn't." He sneered, smiling weakly. Draco came up from behind Hermione and protectively wrapped his hands around her.

"Happy Christmas, Weasel. We'll see you around. But I've got to get my _wife _home."

"Bye, Malfoy. Merry Christmas."

Hermione shook her head at their antics and then involuntarily smiled. He called her his wife: something else that gave her tingles.

-- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

"Alright, Draco," she smiled as they sat on their sofa, looking at the Christmas tree. "So we went to your parents, we went to Ron's, it's almost midnight. Christmas is almost over and I still haven't been able to give you my gift."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." He smirked, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Do it now."

She got up off the couch and got a medium sized box. He snatched it from her and ripped it open. There, beneath the wrapping paper were two books and a framed picture of them at their engagement party. "So I know it's nothing great, but I didn't really have much time. Lately—"

"It's wonderful, this photo is definitely amazing. Look at us kissing. And it's back when we hated each other," he smirked, watching the photograph intently. In the picture, Draco leaned down and kissed Hermione. When they finally pulled away, her face was scrunched up in a disgusted scowl. "Now this, this is priceless."

"Ha. Ha." She laughed, "I know, I can make quite the faces sometimes."

"Sorry," he coughed, "But I didn't get you anything." She was disappointed, but realized it was selfish to be that way, after all, they had _just _gotten married. She had barely enough time to get him something, so she wasn't surprised. "I didn't really have much time. Lately..." He mimicked her before leaning down and gracing her lips with a kiss. She giggled.

"Are you mocking me?"

"Are you giggling again?"

"What is your issue with my giggling?"

"No issue; it's just funny."

"Funny? So you find me funny?"

"Yes, actually, if you hadn't figured that out already."

After snorting and huffing, Hermione removed herself from Draco's arms and began to walk upstairs.

"You're going already?"

"Draco, it's eleven fifty seven, I'm tired."

He jumped up from the couch suddenly, "Oh, shit. It's that late already?" he rushed over to her and grabbed her by the wrist, practically dragging her up the stairs. The house was spacious and there were several rooms. Hermione had counted one day, five bedrooms, a guest bedroom, two bathrooms, a study, a living area, a kitchen, and a dining room, plus a few others. It was big for her, yet small for him.

He had pulled her past their bedroom door hastily. She was about to protest when he silenced her and they arrived at one of the spare bedrooms. He positioned her in front of him. She felt his hand move past her waist and towards the doorknob, opening it for her to see inside.

There, in the brightly lit spare bedroom, sat a nursery; a blue nursery. Running her fingers across the crib, she turned to him. "It's blue."

He walked over to her, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her close. "Well, the color associated with boys is blue."

"But how do you know it's a boy. Usually, people don't know the sex of the baby until—"

"Magic. We do magic, you idiot."

"Wait, so you're saying you did something to me, such as cast a charm or spell on me when I was unaware—"

"Ginny. Ginny told me."

She went quiet and smiled. He kissed her forehead affectionately and whispered, "So what do you think?"

"It's wonderful."

"Great. I knew you would like it. So will Ernest."

"Ernest? You can't seriously be considering naming our child Ernest."

"Of course we're naming him Ernest."

"Draco,"

"Ernest."

"Draco!" she scolded, cocking her head to the side.

"Ernest."

"Now I wish I was having a girl," she sighed.

"I'm going to tell him you said that." He smiled, "Then I'll be his favorite parent."

"You are not going to tell him that."

"Really? Stop me." He taunted. She rolled her eyes ceremoniously before kissing him sweetly. "I think I've been stopped, for now at least. You're going to have to put in a little more effort."

"Fine," she said, grasping his hand in hers and dragging him into their bedroom. She fell into the bed and he jumped in next to her. Leaning over to her, he attempted to kiss her but she pulled back. "What are you doing?"

"I'm kissing you?" he asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to sleep."

"No," he groaned, "You're not serious."

"Draco, I'm tired. I'm having a baby. Get used to it." She laughed while lying down under the covers. He inched his way closer and enveloped her in his arms.

"Please?"

"No." she whispered into his bare shoulder.

"Bushy haired, buck toothed, know it all."

"Good night, Draco." She giggled.

"Night, Granger."

"Actually, it's Malfoy."

END


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